


Get Ready

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Series: Shot Through The Heart [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Timestamp, specific tags at the beginning of each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2020-05-13 03:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19243036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -Timestamps for "Shot Through The Heart"A compilation of small moments and big milestones in Dean and Castiel's relationship.-





	1. Early in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> **Summary:** In which Castiel wakes up his boyfriend early in the morning and Dean finds he doesn’t really mind.
> 
>    
>  **Rating:** Explicit
> 
> **Tags:** Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff
> 
>  
> 
> **Author’s Note:** This specific piece has been inspired by a prompt in my Discord writers group. The prompt has been “hickeys”, so be prepared for smut ;)
> 
> And there will be more timestamps in the near future, just a heads-up! Some will be smutty, some fluffy, some so sappy you will have to visit your dentist to have your teeth checked ;D Some will be small, everyday scenarios, some important milestones in Dean and Castiel’s relationship. Whatever muse decides to inspire me that day ^^
> 
> Please don’t anticipate any kind of chronological order with this (this is more about scratching whatever itch is bothering me), but I’m gonna make sure you will know every time at what stage of the story we are :)
> 
> And I will put the tags at the beginning of every chapter, so you’ll know what to expect ;D
> 
> So have fun with the first of many ^^
> 
> -

There is barely anything better than waking up to the sensation of a naked man pressing against your back and dropping wet kisses onto your shoulder.

Dean grins widely into his pillow as he slowly regains consciousness, his mind still a bit sluggish at this early hour of the day, but nonetheless highly motivated to change this as soon as possible. Who cares if it’s barely 6 AM and that he could actually catch a few more hours of sleep when Castiel’s skin and lips are like fire on his very being?

“M’rning,” he mumbles, leaning into the touch with a lazy smile.

“Good morning,” Castiel whispers, now close to Dean’s ear. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Dean chuckles. “Don’t lie to me, jerkface. When have you  _ ever  _ been sorry?”

Castiel makes a noise that could be either protest or agreement - so early in the morning that’s usually hard to differentiate - before going back to his task of groping Dean like he’d never get a chance of ever doing it again.

The hunter hums in satisfaction as he revels in the feeling. It’s been a few months since they made their relationship official and so far Dean can’t imagine ever getting tired of it. It’s at the same time new and familiar, exciting on so many different levels, physical as well as emotional, and overall it’s the best damned thing that ever happened to him.

He finds himself constantly asking the universe what he did to deserve such luck.

“I could let you get back to sleep,” Castiel proposes after a moment or two of letting his fingers wander over Dean’s torso. “Just you and your dreams …”

Dean grumbles and grasps at Castiel’s hand before he has any chance to withdraw. “Don’t you  _ dare _ , you fucker!” he growls. “You woke me up and now we both have to deal with the consequences.”

Castiel laughs softly. “Such a burden.”

“Yeah, I know, life’s unfair,” Dean says with a huff. “You can whine about that later if you like. Now -  _ more touching _ !”

Castiel doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands glide over Dean’s skin, exploring every single inch, so keen and enthusiastic as though it’s the first time, and the hunter can’t help turning his head around, the angle odd and somewhat awkward, but the view totally making up for the slight discomfort. In the dull light of the bedside lamp Castiel looks almost ethereal and Dean captures himself a kiss out of instinct before his brain is even capable of wholeheartedly agreeing to the plan.

It starts soft and gentle, barely a caress, but soon enough Dean dips his tongue in and the whole thing gets hot and wild in no time at all.

_ Damn _ , kissing Castiel is the most amazing thing ever.

Castiel moans against his mouth, his body aligning with Dean’s even more, and the hunter finds himself rolling onto his back to have better access to his boyfriend’s  _ everything _ . He pulls him closer and deepens the kiss even more while his already half-hard cock rises to full attention.

Castiel seems fairly pleased by that development, running his fingers over Dean’s length lightly and clearly enjoying the way the hunter groans deeply in the process, before his lips finally settle on Dean’s neck, sucking and nibbling as his grip around Dean’s dick tightens.

The hunter’s eyes roll inwards, feeling overwhelmed by all the different sensations. Castiel is always exceptionally good at this - turning Dean into putty in his hands - and Dean can’t complain, not really. Sure, sometimes the stupid son of a bitch is way too smug about the whole thing, but damn, Dean gets the most amazing orgasms out of the deal, so all things considered he’s cool with it. There are clearly worse things in the world.

“Dean,” Castiel whispers into his boyfriend’s skin, his voice already wrecked as if he’s the one getting jacked off by expert hands, before he goes back to sucking onto Dean’s neck like his life depends on it.

And normally the hunter would be totally down for that.

Hell, he’d  _ encourage  _ it to no ends.

But as Castiel’s teeth start to gnaw at Dean’s skin in earnest, on the verge of turning into a full-on (and probably all kinds of hot) bite, something in the back of Dean’s mind starts to tingle and he finds himself gasping, “Shit,  _ stop _ ,” almost immediately.

Castiel instantly does as he’s told and pulls back a little to meet Dean’s gaze. He appears disgruntled by the interruption, his pout record-breaking, as he, to Dean’s deepest chagrin, pauses in his motions and studies his boyfriend with squinted eyes.

“You  _ really  _ have some objections?” Castiel wonders, sounding like the mere notion is the most ridiculous thing ever.

And okay, he’s got a point there. Under normal circumstances he’d cheer Castiel on to go harder and faster.

But unfortunately there’s stuff like responsibilities and all that shit.

“I’m going on a hunt in a few hours,” Dean reminds him, his brain still a bit foggy as he fumbles for the right words. “I can’t … babe, I’m gonna impersonate some high-ranking Fed for this one, remember? Big case and everything?”

Dean can’t for the hell of it recall what the case is even about, not with a naked Castiel in his arms, but he at least remembers that it’s somewhat important.

“I can’t show up with a  _ hickey _ , man,” Dean states. It actually pains him to voice this out loud, but damn, that’s life. Shitty, inconvenient life. “That’d be … well, highly unprofessional.”

Castiel looks contemplative all of a sudden and tilts his head in that way that always makes Dean’s heart jump. “You’re right, that would be fairly unprofessional.”

He stays quiet for a moment before suddenly throwing the covers to the side, leaving them both exposed to the air. Dean can’t help a little chill at the unexpectant change in temperature.

“But I’m sure nobody would take notice on hickeys on  _ other  _ parts of your body, right?” Castiel asks, the bastard’s tone absolutely innocent. “At least I’m hoping you’re not meeting in the sauna or anything -”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Fuck you,” he growls. “Just make sure no one will be able to see and we’re in the clear. Suck ahead.”

Castiel chuckles. “Thank you for the permission.”

Instead of an answer Dean presses his hips impatiently against Castiel’s groin, hoping to get his point across. Castiel at least hisses at the contact and his pupils dilate even more.

Dean expects him to maybe move to the collarbone next to continue his hickey mission, but suddenly Castiel dips way deeper and before Dean even has a chance to process any of this Castiel spreads the hunter’s legs and sinks his head between Dean’s thighs.

_ Fuck _ .

“Cas,” he moans, his muscles already trembling in anticipation.

Castiel shoots him one last smug look, apparently all kinds of pleased with himself, and Dean usually would’ve thrown some highly inappropriate nicknames at his head and curse his very existence, but then Castiel starts to kiss and lick the sensitive skin of the hunter’s thighs and Dean forgets how to use words altogether.

As always Castiel is very thorough. He maps every inch, every single nerve ending, and gives it his full attention while making all those filthy noises like he’s eating the most delicious meal. 

And him being a librarian at heart turns every experience with him onto a whole new level on principle. Castiel appears to know everything about the human body there is to know (and probably some extra stuff nobody has ever heard before) and has no problem transforming Dean into a big pile of useless goo just with a few specific touches. A little pressure here, a soft caress there, and some hardcore suction on top of that, and Dean’s brain melts right away. Castiel knows which buttons to push and he totally takes advantage of all that knowledge stuck inside his huge brain.

Dean is certainly the luckiest man alive.

He bites his bottom lip to keep from screaming as he feels the first graze of teeth against his flesh. Normally he has no real problem getting a bit louder in bed - hell, most of the time, back at Castiel’s house, he yells his freaking head off, taking total advantage of the lack of any kind of neighbor -, but here in the bunker he’s always a bit more reserved. Granted, the walls are thick, close to soundproof even, however, he still can’t shake the feeling that someone might overhear. And though he’s not shy or anything he’d rather keep this thing with Castiel only between them, far away from any inappropriately curious ears.

Castiel, the fucker, doesn’t make the whole thing easy, however. He seems to see it as quite a personal challenge to make his boyfriend scream as loud as possible, so he doesn’t wait around to wrap his hand around Dean’s hard dick once more and  _ moves _ .

Till this day Dean has no clue how he’s doing it, but just a few expert twitches of his wrist and magic touches and the hunter is panting like he just ran three marathons in a row. His heart is thumping like crazy, about to burst out of Dean’s chest in the most spectacular way, and once again he asks himself how he managed to survive sex with Castiel every single time so far.

It’s honestly a miracle, that’s for sure.

“Cas,  _ fuck _ ,” Dean groans, throwing his head back as Castiel sucks so hard the hunter wouldn’t be surprised if the following hickey would turn into the size of Canada. “You’re  _ killing  _ me, man …”

Castiel only hums against Dean’s skin and continues his work, licking and biting and driving his lover out of his mind.

Dean has no idea how much time passes. He  _ never  _ has.

There is only Castiel gripping his cock and his mouth doing unspeakable things to his thigh and who cares if minutes or hours went by in the meantime?

Eventually, though, Dean feels the familiar yet still so exciting heat spreading through his whole body, making every single muscle tense up in the good way, and he hastily flails with his arm until he finally locates Castiel’s wild bird’s nest of hair and buries his hand deep inside.

“Cas …” he gasps, reveling in the sensation of his boyfriend shivering at Dean’s touch. “ _ Shit _ , I’m close …”

At those words Castiel leaps into action right away. After one last bite so hard Dean chokes in his effort not to scream Castiel scrambles upwards again, aligning their hot bodies until there’s not even an inch between them.

“Dean,” he whispers, breathless and fond and broken all in one go, before he dives into a kiss so sensual Dean has a hard time keeping up at first. Like an unpredictable storm he takes the hunter by surprise, absolutely determined to leave a mess behind.

As Castiel’s fairly hard cock connects with Dean’s they both groan into each other’s mouths and this time it’s the hunter who takes the initiative. He grasps both of them in a tight grip and sets an almost brutal pace while their bodies move against one another in a now rather frenzy rhythm. 

The bed creaks underneath them, the air around them gets heady, and the temperature seems to have climbed to fucking Sahara heat somewhere along the way, but Dean couldn’t give a damn. It’s  _ perfect _ , just the two of them, so close, on the verge of falling over the edge together.

So when they eventually find their respective releases only seconds apart, Dean grins so widely it nearly splits his face in half.

_ God _ , he  _ loves  _ morning sex.

Even when he ends up gross and sticky and neither of them has the strength to move even a little bit to improve the situation. Who gives a fuck about some crusty jizz when you have a naked wonder in your arms, right?

So instead of setting out to look for a washcloth or at least some shirt lying around somewhere nearby he leans in again, stealing a soft kiss.

And another.

And another.

“I have a confession to make,” Castiel says after a while, to Dean’s pleasure still looking fairly dazed.

It’s the most beautiful sight.

“And what is that?” Dean whispers, rubbing his nose gently against his boyfriend’s warm cheek.

Castiel smiles lazily. “I am  _ not  _ sorry for waking you up.”

Dean chuckles. “I knew it.”

He cards his fingers through Castiel’s disheveled hair, enjoying the fact that he has been the one mussing it up so freaking badly the Man of Letters probably won’t be able to adequately fix it for the rest of the day.

“We should go back to sleep,” Castiel mumbles. “You have to be on a case soon.”

Dean nods in confirmation.

Though he  _ still  _ can’t remember what the hunt is even about.

Damn, Castiel is way too good in frying his brain!

“And when the case is over,” Castiel continues, his fingertips now skidding over Dean’s neck, “I would very much like to give you some hickeys on far more  _ visible  _ places.”

Dean smirks. “You’re such a possessive bastard sometimes.”

“Only when it’s you.”

Dean can’t help kissing the smug smile off Castiel’s mouth and finds himself thinking, as he feels the large hickey on his thigh actually pulsating at those words, that he seriously doesn’t mind Castiel marking him like that all over  _ at all _ .


	2. Suprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Castiel comes back home after a very stressful week at work - and finds himself confronted with a quite pleasant surprise.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** General Audience 
> 
> **Tags:** Fluff, all the shameless Fluff, Domestic
> 
>  
> 
> **Author's Note:** Not sure how I managed to write something in this heat, but here it is!! It's fluffy and sappy and I hope you'll enjoy it :D
> 
> -

Castiel releases a sigh of relief as he turns his car onto the gravel path that leads straight to his lake house and feels his strained muscles automatically relaxing.

He’s  _ finally  _ free.

Well, at least for the weekend.

Castiel is certainly not a stranger to hard work and stress, but the last week really jangled his nerves on a whole new level. Due to a flu epidemic in one of their most important home bases near Washington several cases had been shifted around, one bigger and more complex than the one before. Castiel never once in his life had to deal with so many state officials, had to balance so many fragile relationships, had to multitask ten completely different things at the same time while simultaneously putting up with a huge group of loud and obnoxious hunters who temporarily moved into the Lebanon bunker a week prior and never grasped the concept of peace and quiet.

Castiel undoubtedly feels knocked out.

He’s not even sure he’d seen a glimpse of daylight in the last few days.

So, after being screamed at by a big-headed diplomat and afterwards being screamed at some more by a couple of British Men of Letters who thought themselves so much smarter than “you Americans”, Castiel eventually called it a day, grabbed his car keys and fled the bunker as fast as possible.

Sweet freedom.

Castiel  _ really  _ hopes the Washington guys will get over their flu sometime soon.

For now, though, he feels the tension drain out of his body as he spots his house in the distance.

And his smile gets even wider as he notices the Impala parked in front of the garage.

He seriously didn’t expect Dean to be here. He’s been on a hunt in Colorado for a couple of days now and at their last phone call it actually sounded like Dean anticipated to stay there at least for a while longer. Castiel had been both relieved - as he didn’t have any time for his boyfriend due to his work anyway - as well as disappointed - because there is no one more efficient to relax him than Dean - about those news and eventually simply accepted them.

So having Dean here now is certainly a wonderful surprise.

After parking his car right next to Dean’s he quickly climbs out and rushes to the front door, eager to find himself in the easy comfort of his own four walls - and also hopefully in the arms of his boyfriend as well.

As he steps inside, however, he is instantly greeted with several interesting smells and gravitates toward the kitchen right away to locate the source.

And he is met with absolute chaos.

Every single inch of the kitchen counter and dining table is cluttered with dishes and bowls and other appliances, right next to all kinds of groceries sprawled out in seemingly no real order whatsoever.

And in the middle of it all is a very startled Dean who stares at Castiel like a deer in the headlights.

“Cas!” he exclaims while hastily trying to brush off some flour in his hair. “What are you doing here?”

Despite the colorful picture in front of him Castiel finds himself chuckling. “I live here, as you may remember.”

Dean blinks a few times before twitching the corners of his mouth upwards. “Smartass.”

Castiel flashes him a grin, way too happy to be far away from the bunker to stress himself out over some mess. A mess  _ he  _ certainly won’t tidy up anyway, that is.

“I see you made yourself at home.”

An adorable blush tinges Dean’s cheeks. “Well, when you gave me that key, you told me I should do just that, right?”

Castiel smiles at the memory. It’s been around two months when he decided to make an extra key just for Dean. They spent most of their quality time at Castiel’s place anyway, so he only figured it right for Dean to come here even without Castiel around.

“I didn’t expect you to make such a mess, though,” Castiel teases. “You’re usually such a neat freak.”

Dean grimaces. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he defends himself. “This is just a  _ stage _ , man. If you would’ve come home at the time Sammy told me, everything would’ve sparkled and you would’ve been none the wiser.”

Castiel tilts his head as he lets his gaze wander. “You spoke to Sam?”

For a moment Dean stays quiet, only glaring at Castiel as though he can’t believe his boyfriend’s audacity to come back earlier from work, before sighing so hard and melodramatic Castiel can’t help a low snicker.

“Sammy told me you’re really stressed at work,” Dean explains. “And when I wrapped up the hunt way quicker than I originally expected, I figured I could … well, I dunno,  _ surprise  _ you, I guess.”

He gestures at the clutter in front of him, all the kitchen supplies and groceries that seem random on first glance but actually form a clearer picture if you take the time to watch a bit closer.

Castiel feels his heart swell. “Dean …”

“I just finished up your favorite lasagna,” Dean is quick to elaborate. “It only needs to wander into the oven and that’s it. I even got some fucking rabbit food and am willing to chuck it into a bowl and turn it into a halfway decent salad.”

Castiel’s expression softens even more as he finally walks up to Dean.

“And I called your mom about the cinnamon buns you’re always talking about,” the hunter continues, now a proud grin on his lips. “You know, the ones you were crazy about as a kid? I figured I get me the recipe and try my luck.”

For a moment Castiel finds himself speechless. “You called  _ my mother _ ?”

“Yup.”

“My  _ mother _ ?”

“When I explained the situation she actually called me a ‘sweetheart’,” Dean says with a smirk. “I think she’s pretty ready to adopt me now.”

For a moment Castiel doesn’t know what to say. He glances at the counter and recognizes suddenly so many of the ingredients he always saw his mother use for those criminally tasty buns he still adores so much.

“I’m sure mine won’t be as good as hers,” Dean tells him. “That’s just a thing with moms, y’know? But I’ll give it my best.”

Castiel doesn’t wait around a second longer as he grasps Dean by the lapels and yanks him into a deep kiss. Dean makes a startled noise at first, as though this wonderful idiot seriously didn’t consider Castiel reacting in such a manner, but soon enough he’s in with the program and pulls his boyfriend even closer. Castiel’s heart flutters as their bodies align and not an inch of space is left between them.

“I guess I’m not in trouble for the messy kitchen, huh?” Dean asks with a crooked smirk when they have to seperate for a moment to catch their breath.

Castiel presses a soft kiss onto his cheek. “You’re very sweet.”

“I know,” Dean whispers, a chuckle in his voice. “Your mom already told me.”

He leans in for another kiss, always greedy for more, but before their lips have even a chance to connect once more Castiel announces, “And I think you should move in with me.”

Dean pauses immediately, blinks a few times as if he’s evaluating whether he misheard or not, and eventually a wide smile splits across his face. “You think so, huh?”

Castiel shrugs. “We’re always here anyway,” he explains. “Most of your belongings are here. And if we’re being honest you actually moved in a long time ago. We only have to make it official.”

Dean grins, his eyes glinting with joy. “Well, Cas, how could I ever defy such logic?”

Warmth spreads throughout Castiel’s body. This week had been one of the worst he ever experienced and now look at him. 

“Then how about you get the hell out of  _ our  _ kitchen and let me make those cinnamon buns?” Dean says, looking exceptionally giddy with the whole thing.

Castiel certainly shares the sentiment.

“Or I could help you,” he proposes.

Dean drops a quick peck on his lips and whispers, “Even better.”

 

\-----

 

And though in the end the cinnamon buns indeed turn out a little different than the ones his mother used to make, Castiel is sure he never tasted anything more perfect in his life.


	3. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Dean gets some very special gifts.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** General Audience
> 
> **Tags:** Fluff, Domestic
> 
>  
> 
> **Author's Note:** Chronologically this is placed about two months before the previous chapter. Just a little fluffy something for in-between ;)
> 
> -

It’s way too early in the morning when there’s a knock on Dean’s door.

Okay, granted, it’s actually more like 11 AM, but damn, he came back to the bunker very fucking late (the sun was already preparing itself to rise soon) after wrapping up a seriously exhausting hunt, so he’s totally entitled to curse whoever is out there violating his bedroom door.

“G’away,” he mutters grouchily into his pillow, aiming for threatening and probably missing by ten miles.

Which proves itself about right as the knocking continues.

Dean growls and grinds his teeth, but finds himself nonetheless rolling out of bed and staggering to the door ‘cause in a bunker filled with the secrets of the world and even beyond everything might be important. At least you always have to check it out first before falling back into death glares and unadulterated violence.

That’s just polite.

However, his pinched grimace immediately gentles as soon as he finds Castiel on his doorstep.

“Cas,” he says, softness in his voice, despite that fucker waking him up at an ungodly hour. Dean was never really able to keep any kind of anger up in the guy’s presence for very long.

It’s a weakness.

“Ah shit, I woke you up, didn’t I?” Castiel realizes, pulling a face as he takes in Dean’s fairly rumpled appearance. “I asked around when you came back last night, but no one could give me a real answer, so in the end I just could take a wild guess -”

Dean chuckles. “Cas, dude, it’s fine -”

Castiel, however, doesn’t seem to see it that way. “I should have just waited for you to emerge yourself,” he says, sighing. “But I guess I got too excited of you being back -”

Dean can’t help a tender smile. The hunt - a widely scattered vamp’s nest - had been long and excruciating and it kept him away from Lebanon for almost two weeks. Before he started this thing with Castiel he usually didn’t mind such stretched periods of time, oftentimes finding himself stuck on hunts for way longer or even jumping to the next one afterwards right away. Hell, sometimes he’s been gone for  _ months _ .

But now those two simple weeks appear to be way too much.

“I missed you, too,” Dean whispers, lots of emotions clasping at his chest.

He’s about to lean in, kiss Castiel right here over the threshold, but he halts as he suddenly notices his boyfriend’s hands being very occupied with gripping something huge. Dean takes a moment to realize it’s a fairly colorful bouquet of flowers.

“What’s that?” he wonders.

“Flowers,” Castiel explains easily. “I’m sure you’ve seen something similar before, right?”

Dean snorts. That adorable smartass. “Once or twice, yeah,” he agrees, amused. “What are you doing with them, though?”

“They’re for you.”

And all of a sudden Dean finds himself with a handful of flowers pressed into his arms.

The hunter blinks in confusion at the explosion of colors shoved into his face while his brain switches into overdrive as it tries to catch up to the situation.

“What?”

“They’re for you,” Castiel repeats, a beaming smile meeting Dean. “For our anniversary.”

Dean gapes.

“ _ What _ ?”

Oh shit.

Was Dean supposed to remember this? They never celebrated any kind of anniversaries or special dates, so he never considered to give a damn about them in the first place. And he always thought Castiel felt the same, but here they are now, with a bunch of flowers saying otherwise.

_ Fuck _ .

“Uh …”

Castiel, however, merely laughs. “Please don’t panic, I honestly would’ve forgotten the whole thing myself. You know I don’t really care about this stuff. Everyday with you is a gift, I don’t need a special date to tell me that.”

As always, he sounds totally nonchalant, like this is an absolutely normal thing to say. Dean isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to that.

“It was Gabriel who called my attention to it the other day,” Castiel explains. “You know how he is. All those countless random numbers and dates stored in his brain. He remembers the exact time a bird pooped on his balcony ten years ago, but he’s looking for his keys at least five times a day.”

Yeah, Gabriel is truly a very unique disaster, Dean has to admit.

“So the other day he pointed out it’s been our six-month anniversary three days ago and I figured I’d do something nice for you,” Castiel finishes up, a broad grin on his lips. “That’s why I got the flowers this morning and was eagerly waiting for you to wake up.”

A part of Dean still can’t believe this is happening. 

“Flowers?” he finds himself repeating, disbelief swinging heavily in his voice.

“As you can see.”

“ _ Flowers _ ?”

“Any complaints?”

Dean stares at Castiel before casting a glance at the ridiculous amount of colors in his hands again.

“It’s just …” He rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “I, uh ... I never got flowers before.”

Ever.

He never even considered this might happen someday.

Meanwhile, Castiel’s whole demeanor gentles at Dean’s words. “Well, you deserve them.  _ All  _ of them.”

And Dean honest to God  _ blushes  _ because Castiel is a true jackass who loves to get his boyfriend flustered.

“You’re such an asshat,” he mumbles, not even the faintest hint of heat in his tone as the corners of his mouth begin to tug upwards.

“But I’m  _ your  _ asshat,” Castiel points out.

Dean’s heart squeezes. “True.”

This time he doesn’t hold back. Mindful not to squash the flowers between them Dean yanks Castiel forward with his free hand and collects the kiss he’s been so keen to receive. Castiel goes more than willingly, a pleased smile on his lips as he digs his finger into Dean’s hair and makes a satisfied noise deep in his throat.

“And for the record,” Castiel says when they break apart soon after to catch some breath, “the next time you return back late you should come to my room, even if I’m already fast asleep. I would have loved to wake up to you.”

Dean’s stomach begins to flutter at the easy softness in Castiel’s tone. “I was considering it for a minute, but I came back  _ really  _ late,” he explains. “Besides, your mattress is quite shitty.”

Castiel huffs. “Yeah, it really is.”

“We should get you a new one fast.”

Castiel assesses him for a moment, something pensive in his eyes, before leaning in again and stealing himself a tender peck. “Or how about I just put all my things in your room - the one with the wonderful mattress - and allow the Men of Letters to transform my room into one for our guests again?”

Dean arches a brow, finding himself very intrigued now. “That sounds …  _ interesting _ .”

“And how about I get you an extra key for my house?” Castiel continues. “That way you can stay there even if I’m not around. You can make yourself at home and everything. I assume it might be more relaxing after a stressful hunt than a bunker filled with busy Men of Letters buzzing around everywhere.”

Wow.

That sounds like serious commitment.

Something which usually would have Dean run for the hills immediately but now instead makes him grin widely at the mere prospect.

_ Damn _ .

“I guess I wouldn’t be opposed,” Dean mutters, unable to suppress another flush.

“Great.” Castiel beams happily at him. “Then how about I find you a vase for the flowers, get you breakfast in bed and afterwards show you just how  _ happy  _ I am that you’re back.”

He winks at Dean, clumsily and the opposite of sexy.

God, Dean  _ really  _ loves that man.

“You’re seriously spoiling me, babe,” he says, chuckling. “Be careful, though, I might get used to it.”

There is something gleaming in Castiel’s eyes at those words. “Well, you  _ should _ .”

Dean wraps his arms around Castiel’s hips again and drags him closer. “So I should expect flowers for every anniversary now?”

Castiel nods, utter determination showing on his features. “Every single one.”

 

\-----

 

And he keeps true to his words.

Even many,  _ many  _ years later.


	4. Special Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Dean and Castiel have some special fun on the kitchen table.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Rating:** Explicit
> 
> **Tags:** Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom Dean, Implied Bottom Cas
> 
> **Author’s Note:** Inspired by a weekly challenge in my Discord group. The prompt was “Sex on the Kitchen Table” ;D
> 
> -

“Oh  _ fuck, _ Cas …”

Dean groans so loudly the walls probably start to shake and he throws his head back in ecstasy, not at all caring that the hard surface of the kitchen table nearly concusses him.

But why would he care, with Castiel’s dick buried deep inside him?

Every nerve ending is on fire as Castiel finds the perfect spot and Dean fumbles to meet the hard thrusts, eager to actively participate but also so drown in lust he’s barely able to think straight.

He can’t even really remember how he ended up here. He recalls them having a normal breakfast, fairly early in the morning because Castiel didn’t want to miss the beginning of the local farmer’s market. Dean hadn’t been too keen on waking up at the crack of dawn, but Castiel lured him in with kisses and sweet promises and Dean was incapable of resisting him.

So yes, they had a pretty usual breakfast -- Dean even threw some extra bacon into the mix -- and then at some point the kissing started which led into a heavy make out session which eventually brought them here.

Dean sprawled on the kitchen table, his sweatpants and boxers lying on the floor, and his legs wrapped around Castiel’s waist while his hole is being mercilessly fucked.

Dean shouldn’t be surprised, though. Everytime he comes back from a hunt that took longer than anticipated (or, actually, mostly hunts in general, no matter the time frame) they’re all over each other as though they’ve been apart for months. Dean’s never known such a feeling, such desire and longing and desperation, and most of the time he hasn’t got the faintest idea what to even do with it, but decided a long time ago to just go with it and ride on that amazing wave.

(And he’s done  _ lots  _ of riding in the last couple of days, no question about that.)

(Just as Castiel.)

“Feeling good there, Cas …” Dean moans just as Castiel finds the most delightful angle. “So good …”

It’s actually an understatement. Even with a fork digging itself in his shoulder and the remnants of their breakfast staring accusingly at them, probably scolding them for their violation of all the health codes imaginable, and the hard surface underneath him being highly uncomfortable Dean feels awesome through and through.

He buries his fingers in Castiel’s hair and pulls him close, eager for a kiss, and though he has to bend almost painfully to get it, neither Heaven nor Hell could stop him from doing so.

Castiel hums happily against his lips and whispers, “I love you.”

It’s ridiculously romantic, even with Dean being screwed to near death, and the hunter can’t do anything but smile fondly. “I love you, too,” he breathes back and for a moment he bask in that affectionate gaze being directed at him. But soon enough his cock reminds him that it’s about to burst into a million pieces sometime soon and he adds with a growl, “And now get on with it, hotshot! I thought you wanted to fuck me and not ask me to prom.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Did you ask people to prom like this back in the days?”

He underlines the question with an extra hard thrust which makes Dean see stars for a few seconds.

“ _ Fuck _ you!” Dean growls, his voice catching in his throat. “Just …  _ please _ …”

He’s never been much for begging, but since he’s with Castiel he finds himself in such a situation way more often than he cares to admit.

But can anyone seriously blame him, with Castiel always reacting so beautifully as soon as even a hint of plea is whispered in his direction? As though answering Dean’s wishes is the most amazing thing that ever happened to him.

This time it isn’t any different. Castiel’s pupils dilate even more at the sound of Dean’s broken voice before aligning their sweaty bodies closer than ever before and giving it all he’s got. His eyes gleam brightly, so captivated by the sight of Dean falling apart underneath him he almost looks supernatural.

And falling apart Dean surely does.

Castiel’s cock is thick and heavy inside of him, splitting him open, filling him up with the most exhilarating pleasure, numbing his brain cells until only the sensation of Castiel all over him is prominent. They’re both still partly dressed, their blind lust for each other not having left them any time to waste getting rid of every single garment, and it just feels kind of obscene. As if they’re horny teenagers discovering the joys of carnal delights for the very first time and not two adults in a committed relationship for way over a year now.

Dean moans like a porn star and runs his hands over Castiel’s back, eager for as much skin contact as possible. He feels strong muscles working under his finger tips, flexing at every tiny movement, making it more than obvious that Castiel is using the entire strength of his body to ignite Dean’s whole system from top to bottom, and the hunter tightens his thighs around Castiel’s hips and meets his boyfriend’s thrusts as good as he’s got.

Naturally it’s far more graceful, with him lying on the damned kitchen table and being so blinded with lust he barely has any elegance left, but at least the effort should count for something.

And Castiel’s answering grunts are surely music to Dean’s ears.

Soon enough they get frenzier. The table creaks dangerously underneath Dean and only his personal experience with that special piece of furniture in the past year -- after fucking each other repeatedly on top and against every surface in this house imaginable -- lets him ignore that completely.

It’s solid and sturdy, even with two grown men regularly misusing it for their own selfish purposes, and it’s not defeated that easily.

And  _ even if _ the table would finally decide to give up on them, at least Dean would crush onto the ground as a happy man.

“Dean,” Castiel gasps, his voice so hoarse like he’s just running a freaking marathon. He’s trembling all over, from both exertion as well as arousal, as he gathers his last strength to slip one hand underneath Dean’s thigh and lift it slightly to get an even better angle.

And, as always, it’s the perfect move.

_ Fuck. _

Dean practically screams as Castiel’s dick mercilessly jackhammers his prostate, his senses going into overload. His cock twitches and spasms, obviously ready to burst wide open, and he quickly grabs onto it and jacks himself off, adapting to Castiel’s erratic rhythm. His whole being feels like he’s on fire, tingling and prickling all over, and he gets so focused on the feeling he slowly notices his upstairs shutting down completely. Instead of at least a halfway decent thought crossing his mind he starts to babble nonsense, with an occasional  _ “oh shit” _ and  _ “yes, yes, yes” _ and  _ “Cas” _ thrown in there somewhere, and bends his back to get as close to Castiel as possible.

And when he eventually comes it’s with the most bawdy  _ “Oh Jesus Fucking Christ!” _ on his lips as he spills all over his stomach and chest.

Dammit.

All.

To.

Hell.

Dean seriously has no idea how he survived sex with Castiel so far. It’s truly a miracle he’s still alive.

And when Castiel follows Dean’s example only a moment later, hastily pulling out and adding to the mess on Dean’s body, the hunter is pretty sure he ascended to another plane of existence entirely.

_ Shit. _

Castiel collapses right on top of him, pressing him into the hard wood of the table and squeezing his lungs which are actually in such dire need of oxygen, but Dean doesn’t even have the energy to complain about it. He merely makes a noise that might be a growl or a kitten trying and failing for a roar and shuts his eyes for a minute or two, catching his breath and enjoying the amazing afterglow.

He feels good, sated, tingly freaking everywhere, even in his little toes, and not even the uncomfortable surface or the slice of leftover bacon poking at his ear could dampen his mood now.

_ Nothing  _ would be capable of doing that.

“For your information,” Dean eventually says, his voice croaky from all the vocal strain, but still soft beyond belief, “you’re the  _ only one _ I’d take to prom, tuxedo and all.”

Castiel lifts his head and beams at him as though that’s the most romantic thing he ever heard in his life before peppering Dean’s face with tender kisses.

Dean purrs -- yes, he  _ purrs, _ he can’t help it with Castiel -- and leans into the soft touch, loving their usual afterplay just as much as the act itself. Soon enough their lips find each other and they get lost in the sensation.

Reverting to teenagers once more, makeout session inclusive.

Dean knows they look like a train wreck -- sweaty, flushed, half naked with their cocks hanging out and their asses exposed to the cool air, come drying between their bodies and probably dripping onto the table underneath them, hygiene be damned --, but he loves it anyway.

Hell, it’s the most awesome thing.

So he kisses Castiel and kisses him and yanks him even closer, losing all sense of time in the process.

And he thinks he could stay this way forever until suddenly a loud shriek echoes through the room and a horrified voice exclaims,  _ “Oh. My. God!” _

A very  _ familiar  _ voice.

Both Dean and Castiel turn their heads to the back door and see themselves confronted with a fairly shell-shocked Sam staring at them with wide eyes.

For a moment everything seems frozen -- Sam gaping at the scene in front of him, Dean and Castiel looking back while being obviously very half-naked -- and Dean eventually starts to wonder whether time  _ seriously  _ stopped, right here and now.

But then Sam hastily covers his eyes with his hand, yelling, “God, I hate you so much!” and turns on his heels -- just to crash right into the doorframe.

For a moment he’s startled and confused and curses in about three different languages, but he apparently refuses to take a peek to check his surroundings but instead finds himself staggering back onto the back patio blindly, swearing the whole time.

Dean, meanwhile, blinks rapidly as he watches his brother vanishing around the corner.

What the --?

What is Sam even doing here?

“Damn,” Castiel groans all of a sudden, his expression pinched. “This is my fault.”

Dean raises a brow. “How do you mean?”

“Sam and I arranged to go to the farmer’s market together,” Castiel sighs. “I told him to use the back door and just come inside when he arrives here.” He closes his eyes for a second, his face so sheepish Dean can’t help wrapping his arms a bit tighter around him. “I completely forgot about that.”

Dean presses his lips into a thin line, determined not to laugh right into his boyfriend’s face, and it works about thirty-two seconds, but then Sam’s voice sounds into the house once more as he again collides with something and curses the whole world, and Dean is unable to hold himself back anymore.

“Dude,” he says, chuckling amused. “You traumatized him for life now.”

Castiel scowls at Dean’s cheerful tone. “I didn’t mean --”

“He will  _ never  _ eat at this table ever again,” Dean promises. “He probably won’t even be capable to look at it.”

“I just got distracted,” Castiel defends himself, pouting so adorably Dean’s heart grows a few sizes. “I remembered perfectly well about Sam when we enjoyed our breakfast. And then you had the audacity to kiss me --”

“You weren’t complaining, jackass --”

“And  _ then  _ you dared to take things even further --”

“This was a two-men show the whole time, pal.”

“And now look what happened!”

Castiel scoffs for good measure, looking so much like a disgruntled cat that Dean just can’t resist dropping a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“What happened?” Dean smirks crookedly. “We had amazing sex and mind-blowing orgasms.  _ That’s _ what happened.”

Castiel makes an affronted noise, but in the end doesn’t contradict. He knows fairly well that Dean is speaking the truth and there is nothing he can do about it.

“Just be lucky Sam didn’t pop up  _ during _ our fun time,” Dean points out. “Usually he’s very good at that. The things the guy has seen already …”

Castiel grimaces. “Dean …”

Dean nuzzles Castiel’s cheek, feeling his tense boyfriend already loosening up at the gentle gesture. “I’m just saying Sam will get over it. No one is to blame here, it’s just bad timing.” His lips brush lightly over Castiel’s skin. “Besides, Sam should’ve known better than showing up here without knocking. He’s well aware that we can’t keep our hands off each other after I’ve just come back home from a hunt. He should’ve played it safe, even after you told him to just come inside.”

Castiel takes his time to mull Dean’s argument over in his head, obviously intrigued by the hunter’s flawless logic. “You have a point here,” he concedes, after a long moment of consideration.

Dean grins brightly. “I always have.”

Castiel shakes his head in fond exasperation while muttering something incoherent underneath his breath.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up and dressed,” he announces, already starting to heave himself up from the uncomfortable table. “And then I will endure some awkward hours with Sam while he avoids my gaze the whole time. Sounds like fun.”

Dean lets his hand run softly over Castiel’s forearms, reveling in the feeling of goosebumps popping up at his touch. “Don’t worry, babe,” he says, softly. “Sam will forget about the entire thing at the first sight of some ripe pears and shiny red apples, at the very latest. You’ll have fun at your little farmer’s market.”

Castiel still doesn’t appear fully convinced. “You’re sure?”

Dean nods fiercely. “One hundred percent,” he says, not only as a reassurance, but also because he knows his brother. Sam might be a bit of a drama queen, however, he’s seen Dean in far more compromising positions in the past to be actually scarred for life now. Not to mention that he’s overall ridiculously happy for Dean and Castiel and their relationship and that he is probably already desperately persuading himself to view the whole thing as kinda weirdly romantic, in a disturbing sense.

“And even if he might be a bit strange today,” Dean adds, “just remember our plans for tonight and I’m sure that’ll cheer you up in no time.”

Castiel frowns in confusion. “What plans?”

Dean cards his fingers through Castiel’s hair and smiles easily. “Tonight I’m gonna take you to prom.”

For a moment the other man doesn’t react in any way, only stares at Dean with that intense gaze that’s able to penetrate concrete, but then the corners of his mouth tug upwards and he whispers, with almost suffocating affection in his tone, “You’re impossible, Winchester.”

And when their lips meet yet again and annoying, interrupting brothers are banned from their minds once more, Dean finds himself thinking that he honestly doesn’t mind being impossible.

Not faced with such a magnificent outcome.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legends say they totally miss the opening of the farmer's market by a long shot.
> 
> ;DD
> 
> #PrayForSam


	5. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Dean has insomnia. Castiel just wants to cuddle.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** Teen and Up Audience
> 
> **Tags:** Fluff, Soft Boyfriends
> 
> -

Dean has no idea why it's happening, but since his teenage years he's got bursts of annoyingly insistent insomnia on a regular basis.

Thankfully it doesn't happen all that often, but still often enough to become obnoxious. There appears to be no real cause for this – at least it doesn't seem to matter if he's stressed out of his mind at the time or absolutely chilled and relaxed – and ten out of ten it just comes out of the blue due to that very unpredictable pattern.

Dean learned to live with it, mainly since he had no other choice in that matter to begin with. Usually he endures the lack of sleep with all the grace he can muster and simply goes with the flow. When all of this started back in the days he got cranky fairly quickly and never knew what to do with himself, making himself feel lost and pathetic, but at some point he decided to use the additional hours for his benefit and do all the things he normally doesn't have time for during the day instead of just feeling sorry for himself and wallowing in self-pity.

So that's what he has been doing ever since.

And that's what he's doing right now.

When he lay in bed that night and began to realize that once again he wouldn't find a wink of sleep he grabbed the book on his nightstand that he barely had any opportunity to glance at for weeks now, walked downstairs and made himself comfortable on the couch with a fuzzy blanket and a nice cup of hot chocolate.

It's been hours since then and Dean made lots of progress so far, a feeling of accomplishment blossoming inside of him. He bought the book on a whim the other day only because the summary sounded interesting, but next to hunting, research, family time and Castiel burning pancakes, smiling at him softly, whispering gentle endearments into his ears and making love to him over and over right in front of the fire place because apparently snowy winter days turn him into a romantic sap – yeah, Dean didn't have lots of chances to indulge in any fantasy novels.

But now here he is and though he knows from experience that he's gonna feel exhausted and weary for the next few days he's still having a good time.

“Dean?”

At the sound of his boyfriend's voice Dean looks up and is instantly greeted with the most gorgeous sight of a bleary and rumpled Castiel shuffling towards the couch while rubbing his eyes and appearing ready to fall over any second now.

“Cas, babe,” Dean says, the affection in his tone so obvious it almost hurts. “Why are you out of bed?”

“You were gone,” Castiel explains, looking so adorably grumpy that Dean falls in love with him all over again in that moment. “I don't like it when you're gone.”

And without any further words he crawls underneath Dean's blankets, nestles himself between the hunter's legs and wraps his arms around Dean's torso, obviously very determined to use his boyfriend as a pillow, no matter what.

Dean chuckles in amusement and just holds still until Castiel has found the perfect position and releases a breath of relief.

Dean smiles as he drops a light kiss on the top of Castiel's head and declares himself the luckiest guy alive.

“Insomnia again?” Castiel mumbles into Dean's chest after a while of silence.

The hunter sighs. “Yeah.”

“I'm sorry,” Castiel breathes. “I wish I could help.”

Dean pulls Castiel even closer, warmth running throughout his entire body. “You're helping plenty, Cas. Trust me.”

Castiel, though, grumbles, apparently not agreeing in the slightest. “There are a few things we could try,” he points out. “A massage, perhaps? The human body does have some very responsive nerve bundles and if we'd stimulate the right spots I could take you to an entire new stage of relaxation.”

Dean grins. Castiel sure used many of those “nerve bundles” lots of times before, for various occasions, and the hunter certainly never had any reason to complain.

“Maybe,” he says. “It can't hurt.”

Castiel makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat. “Well, some of these spots actually need a certain amount of pressure, so there technically might be some pain involved –”

Dean chuckles. “Asshat …”

“It would be the good kind of pain, though. The one that would make you feel better afterwards.”

Dean leans forward and after a little awkward bending manages to capture Castiel's lips with his own. Castiel makes a surprised sound at first, like he absolutely didn't expect this kind of reaction, but soon enough they kiss long and sweet and slow, savoring each other in ways Dean never experienced with anyone else before.

“Thanks, babe,” Dean eventually whispers against Castiel's lips. “But how about for now you just go back to sleep and I keep on reading my book? You kinda interrupted me at a major plot twist and I couldn't honestly sleep right now, even without the insomnia.”

Castiel huffs, a twinkle in his eyes. “Fine,” he concedes. “I'm way too tired to knead your body all over anyway.”

Dean smiles before going in for one last kiss, chaste and gentle. “Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Castiel agrees and right away drops back onto Dean's chest and falls back asleep like someone cut a thread.

And so they stay the night on the couch, huddled together underneath the warm blanket, one of them sleeping, one of them wide awake, and both of them happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you had some fun with this little snippet!
> 
> There will also be a second installment to this one sometime very soon, with Castiel trying everything (and I mean EVERYTHING 😏) to wear Dean out and help him get rid of his insomnia.
> 
> Until next time then!


	6. Insomnia 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- 
> 
> Castiel is very determined to try everything in his power to help Dean deal with his insomnia.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** Explicit
> 
> **Tags:** Fluff and Smut, Explicit Content, Switching  
>  
> 
> _As promised, the second installment!_  
>  _Have fun 😊_
> 
> -

“Oh _fuck_!”

Dean rolls his eyes inwards as two very insisting fingers, belonging to his boyfriend, rub at his prostate as if there's no tomorrow. He groans and curses and for the millionth time wonders how he ended up like this.

Everything started to freaking innocent.

With Castiel being so adorably determined to do everything to help Dean getting rid of his insomnia. With him becoming all pumped and excited to try various approaches and compare the results to achieve the perfect end product. He looked like a little boy giddy for his science project and Dean was more than ready to comply and indulge his favorite nerd no matter what.

So when Castiel proposed to get into the bathtub to increase the effects of his planned massage by the warm water Dean basically ripped the clothes of his body and jumped right ahead.

And at first it was nice. _So_ nice.

The heat made Dean all loose and relaxed as he leaned against Castiel's chest and let his boyfriend do his magic. Soapy fingers run all over his skin, sometimes just soft and tender, sometimes with a little bit pressure to knead more intently at certain spots.

Dean felt good. So very damned good.

His mind even drifted off a bit, so he seriously has no real idea how it happened, but now there are fingers in his ass and he is writhing and moving and moaning like a porn star because he honestly can't help himself, not with Castiel pushing all the right pleasure buttons. His hard cock peaks out right from the surface, flushed and red and ready to burst open.

Castiel, meanwhile, only hums and nibbles at Dean's earlobe. “Seems you like _that_ specific nerve bundle fairly well, huh?”

To underline his words he actually starts to jam the prostate and Dean almost howls.

In the end it doesn't take long for the hunter to completely lose it. He spreads his legs wide and fucks himself on Castiel's fingers like in a daze, water spilling over the edge on the floor and probably making a mess of their clothes lying right beside the tub. Dean, however, couldn't care less about a pair of wet jeans and some drowned boxers in that particular moment.

When Castiel breathes, “Dean!” into his ear, in that special tone of his that always gets Dean going without fail, he reaches the point of no return and shoots his load right there into the water.

Afterwards he pants and gasps and sinks back into Castiel's chest, all the energy drained out of him.

_DAMN_.

He didn't know that getting rid of insomnia could be that intense.

“You liked that?” Castiel wonders, an audible smirk in his tone.

Dean is way too exhausted to even roll his eyes. “Fuck … you ...” he presses through his teeth nevertheless, even it sounds more pathetic than anything.

Castiel merely chuckles. “I'm happy to hear you enjoyed yourself. This has been just the beginning, after all.” His fingertips skid softly over one of Dean's nipples, making the hunter squirm in his lap. “A strong combination of physical activity and relaxing methods will be the best way to help you with your sleeping problems.”

Dean only makes a croaky, incoherent sound and prays to all the Gods that he'll survive Castiel's experiment at the end of the day.

 

\-----

 

Castiel surely stays true to his words and the rest of the day is basically just a long serious of whiplash for Dean.

Right after the bath he finds himself wrapped into a fuzzy blanket, forcefed some herbal tea (which thanks to Castiel's special honey actually doesn't taste that bad) and laid out on the couch, his head on his boyfriend's chest. His muscles sigh in relief and his entire body tingles pleasantly as Castiel gently massages his neck and skull and whispers sweet endearments into Dean's ear, making the hunter grin like an idiot in the process.

About an hour later he gets dragged into the physical aspect of Castiel's treatment and unfortunately it involves way less fun than Dean expected. Instead of getting naked he is put into some gym clothes and pushed right into Castiel's little work-out room in his basement. Suddenly his life revolves only around treadmills and barbells and the icky kind of sweat and he curses his insomnia as well as his bossy boyfriend at least a million times over and over.

It only gets remotely interesting when Castiel decides to join him, apparently inspired by Dean's misery to give his limbs some action, too. Soon enough they end up sparring and wrestling and punching/kicking the everliving shit out of each other and unfortunately that's not much more enjoyable either considering Castiel is a very skilled and determined fighter, ready to win the upper hand and not leave any survivors behind. Dean sees himself connecting with the mat underneath his feet in a fairly uncomfortable manner several times over the course of half an hour.

Nonetheless it's better than the treadmill since he's at least able to touch Castiel all over and that's always a preferable outcome.

At least no one can blame him for getting hard sooner than later.

Castiel, thankfully, seems to share the sentiment as Dean realizes at one point when their erections brush through the thin fabric of their pants just as Castiel had pinned him down after a outrageously vicious attack. Dean's just able to rise his brows in pleasant surprise at this new development before suddenly Castiel's pupils dilate into an almost impossible size and he yanks Dean's pants and boxers down in one go as he simultaneously rolls him onto his stomach and presses him down onto the mat with an animalistic growl that nearly makes Dean orgasm right there on the spot.

Soon enough the hunter finds himself fucked relentlessly, his entire being weeping with pleasure. And he's got no idea whether this is part of Castiel's well-planned work-out program or simply things taking an unexpected turn, but Dean surely isn't complaining or even asking stupid questions, way too busy with moaning and panting and yelling _“yes, yes, YES, FUCK”_ and coming all over the mat in long spurts.

And when Castiel follows him right after, spilling into Dean's hole, the hunter can't help thinking that he doesn't mind Castiel's gym sessions all that much.

 

\-----

 

The rest of the day runs its course more or less in the same fashion.

There is the massage right after their wrestling match, with Dean lying on their bed all naked and covered in slick oil while Castiel's fingers glide over his skin and knead softly at every obnoxious knot he can find. It's sensual and one of the most intimate experiences of Dean's life and he feels like the luckiest guy alive throughout the whole duration.

Then there is a hearty lunch and cuddling on the couch as they watch some rom-com Dean would never publicly admit to like but secretly kinda adores (and Castiel is a freaking saint for enduring this and not revealing a word to anyone about Dean's guilty pleasure).

Afterwards Castiel forces him to jog. Dean's never been a fan of running without anything chasing him (because seriously, what's the point?), but Castiel's puppy eyes are almost as effective and mighty as Sam's, so Dean never stood a chance in the first place.

And it's not so bad, as soon as you find your groove.

Especially when at some point, right on the middle of the trail, Castiel suddenly stops him, kisses him deeply while opening Dean's belt at the same time and eventually drops to his knees right in front of him because apparently the sight of snow-covered trees makes him horny or something.

It's cold as fuck and Dean surely isn't thrilled to be exposed to such low temperatures, but Castiel hurries up to keep his cock all hot and wet and soon enough Dean doesn't care about anything but fucking his boyfriend's mouth and coming right down his throat. All that while snowflakes fall into his eyes and a pervy squirrel watches them the whole time.

(And once again, Dean has no clue if mind-blowing orgasms are actually part of Castiel's plan all along or not, but he certainly won't voice any kind of protest.)

(He even is gracious enough to return the sentiment, dragging Castiel close, opening his pants and wrapping his hand around the impressively hard dick inside. And though Castiel bitches about the cold, the ungrateful bastard, he orgasms after only a few tight pulls, with Dean's name on his lips.)

They walk the rest of the way home, hand in hand, blushing and giggling like freaking teenagers, and slowing down every few minutes to exchange tender kisses and soppy smiles.

Back at home Dean gets a foot massage.

And Castiel receives one in return.

Instantly followed by a make-out session and some sloppy hand jobs.

Which not long after merges into an extended yoga lesson and Dean bending in ways he never did before.

And also _sweating_ in ways he never did before because that shit is way harder than he could've ever imagined.

(But it also results in Castiel groping his ass several times since apparently Dean doing a Dying Dog or a Dancing Sun (or whatever the names for those stupid poses are) in tight pants doesn't leave the Man of Letters unaffected, so all in all it's not that bad.)

Afterwards they lie in front of the fireplace, surrounded by blankets and pillows, and listen to some relaxing nature sounds.

Castiel tells him he loves him in the softest tone.

And they make love right there, with the flickering fire next to them, to the sounds of waves breaking and birds chirping, looking deeply into each other's eyes the entire time, and it might be one of the most romantic moments a person has experienced _ever_.

Afterwards Dean whispers to Castiel that he loves him too and they kiss until the fire dies down.

 

\-----

 

It goes on like that until the late evening.

Relaxation. Little massages. Touches. Light kisses brushing over Dean's skin.

A Pilates lesson in the living room. Doing some gymnastics and looking like a fool. Carrying some shit around because Castiel doesn't let the opportunity slip to let his boyfriend be useful.

And then, of course, the _real_ physical exertion. A rim job so freaking good Dean actually sobs into the couch cushions. Castiel riding him on the armchair, so slow it almost drives Dean crazy. A lot of touching and fingering in the shower. Dean getting fucked on the kitchen counter. And then, once again, as a grand finale, writhing naked in front of the fireplace, both of them way too spent to go yet again, but nonetheless desperate to be close to each other, in any way possible.

Yeah, it surely has been a day filled with all kinds of whiplash.

And Dean wouldn't want it any other way.

 

\-----

 

When they find themselves in bed that night Castiel turns towards him and asks, “How do you feel?”

Dean evaluates the question, assessing himself from top to bottom. Every single muscle, every single cell.

His body – absolutely, truly exhausted.

And his mind …?

He smiles lazily and answers, “I feel tired.”

Castiel sighs deeply in response. “Thank God,” he breathes in relief. “I'm so fucking done for, I couldn't have kept this up for another second.”

Dean laughs as he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss on Castiel's lips. “Thank you, babe.”

Castiel's expression turns painfully soft as he runs his fingers through Dean's hair. “Sleep.”

And so Dean does.

For the entire night.

And the ones that follow.

 

\-----

 

In the grand scheme of things naturally it won't be the last time Dean suffers from insomnia.

Sometimes Castiel will be able to massage/punch/treadmill/fuck it right out of Dean's system so effectively it's not gonna bother him for months. And sometimes all of Castiel's efforts, including the spectacular orgasms, won't have any real impact at all.

But at the end of the day Dean knows he will be fine because with Castiel at his side nothing could ever be wrong.


	7. Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> One night Dean sees a shooting star and it gets him thinking about his life.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** General Audience
> 
> **Tags:** Fluff
> 
> **Warnings:** Brush your teeth before reading this, my friends, because it's gonna get extra sweet ;)
> 
> -

Dean sees it on a cloudless Sunday night as he looks out of the window of his low-class motel room to check if Garth has returned with their takeout yet.

A shooting star.

It appears and disappears within seconds and Dean finds himself smiling to himself, suddenly feeling like a kid again, eager to catch such a phenomenon and utter his deepest wish for it to come true.

Nowadays he knows it's just nothing more than superstition, of course. In all his years dealing with the supernatural he never heard of a single occurrence where a shooting star might have granted anyone's heart desires. And he's quite sure that both Sam and Castiel would've talked his ear off relentlessly for days if they would've found anything remotely close to this.

So yes, he knows it's simply one of these things people indulge in. Like blowing out the candle on your birthday cake and hoping for a better life or that Play Station they have been dying to own since basically forever.

Nonetheless Dean's mind drifts off to it on its own accord.

He finds himself wondering what he would wish for if that shooting star, or _any_ shooting star, actually would possess such kind of power.

About a year ago it probably would've been a house, a _home_ , and a family of his own. He never really voiced that out loud, always played the cool, unattached guy who was happy going on hunts and occasionally living in the bunker, but deep down, _very_ deep down, he seriously craved such a life. A little bit of normalcy. Love. A stable relationship. Someone he could call, “Honey, I'm home!” to when stepping through the door, in a totally genuine and non-joking manner.

But now?

Now there is Castiel and the house at the lake Dean officially moved into a few months ago and he honestly has no idea what more he could wish for. His family is healthy and a major pain in his ass, his boyfriend is amazing and drives him crazy in a lot of different ways, both good and bad, his home feels warm and loved, and Garth is currently walking across the parking lot with two pizza boxes in his hands.

Yeah, life is good.

  
  


\-----

  
  


Dean still thinks about the shooting star when just a few days later he arrives back at home.

He feels exhausted and sore, but the hunt was successful and that fucking wendigo went up in flames, never able to kill anyone ever again, and in the end that all that matters. And when he spots Castiel's – absolutely hideous – car in front of the garage, indicating that he finished his Men of Letters business fairly quickly this week and is more than ready to enjoy his free weekend, Dean's smile turns almost face-splitting.

He doesn't waste any time to park the Impala and rush inside the house.

Castiel, who's been sitting on the couch with (unsurprisingly) a book in his hands, looks up at the sound of the opening door and immediately greets Dean with the brightest beam imaginable.

Dean doesn't wait even a millisecond to hurry to his side, drop onto the couch beside him, nearly landing on his lap, and press their lips together before Castiel even has a chance to get a word out.

Castiel, for his part, surely isn't thrown off by Dean suddenly jumping into his arms like this. After all, it's not like it doesn't happen every single time Dean returns from a hunt. He surely got used to his boyfriend attacking him like that without a warning whatsoever.

Castiel hums happily into Dean's mouth as he gives back at good as he got. As always, it starts deep and longing and a little bit desperate, as if they hadn't seen each other for months or even years, but soon enough it switches into something soft and sweet.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel eventually whispers against Dean's lips, a smile accompanying the words. “Welcome back.”

Dean merely growls and deepens the kiss once again.

And again and again.

In the end he has no clue how long they are sitting there, intertwined with one another, reveling in their reunion. Maybe just a couple of minutes, maybe hours. With Castiel he can never tell.

“I saw a shooting star the other day,” he finds himself saying at one point, just when Castiel's lips brush gently over his cheek and make him shiver all over.

Castiel chuckles quietly. “A shooting star?” he breathes. “What did you wish for?”

“It won't come true if I tell you,” Dean reminds him.

Castiel pulls back a bit, his eyes gleaming in amusement. “You're right, I'm sorry.”

Dean runs his fingers through Castiel's messy hair, once more awed that he managed to bag the hottest guy alive. He obviously did something right in his previous life to earn such a reward.

“Besides,” he says, “would it be too sappy if I told you I didn't wish for anything because I already have everything I could ask for?”

Castiel bites his bottom lip. “That would be beyond sappy, yes.”

“Right?”

“ _Truly_ sappy. Disgustingly so even.”

“You're a jackass, you know that?”

“I know. You tell me every day because you're the most romantic person in the whole wide world.”

Dean only grins in response and dives in back for another one of those addictive kisses.

He could live like this forever.

So perhaps in the end ignoring the shooting star indeed was just a natural reaction for him. Yes, granted, their wish-fulfilling abilities are utter bullshit and all, but he couldn't even imagine what that chunk of space rock would be able to give him he didn't already have.

Sure, he still has plans. Things to achieve. Things he dreams about.

Helping his parents build their dream retirement house one day. Going with Sam to Disneyland. Watching him finally grow a pair and move in with Eileen. Supporting Garth getting in touch with that nice werewolf lady they met a while ago and he obviously can't stop talking about.

And yeah, for himself Dean never really dared to dream about those big things, marriage or even kids, but now, with Castiel in his arms, it doesn't seem like such an inaccessible wish. 

At least not the kind where you need a shooting star to believe in them.

“You know what I would have wished for if I had seen that shooting star?” Castiel wonders as his hand slowly glides down Dean's spine.

The hunter shudders pleasantly. “Tell me, babe.”

“I would have wished for a bazooka. Just for you.”

Dean groans, feeling appreciated and understood like never before. “I love you, you weirdo.”

Yeah, he has everything he needs.


	8. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Sam has an epiphany.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
>  **Rating:** Teen and Up Audience
> 
>  **Tags:** Fluff, Sam POV, #PrayForSam
> 
> -

For the most part Sam is happy for Dean.

Granted, when Dean announced his changed relationship status Sam had been rather shocked at first because he hadn't seen that coming at all. Okay, according to his mother he's been an oblivious idiot, but _hey_ , can you seriously blame him when Dean and Castiel used to jump at each other's throats all the time? Whenever they were in the same room the atmosphere got tense very quickly.

And fine, Sam knew very early that Dean found Castiel attractive since the very beginning and probably wouldn't have refused a quick hook-up. Some hate sex in the closet or perhaps a bit of naked wrestling on the bathroom floor.

Yeah, Sam wouldn't have been surprised about _that_.

Grossed out, of course, but honestly not surprised.

But Dean suddenly getting all mushy and calling Castiel his “boyfriend” – a title nobody had the right to wear ever before – and using terms like “relationship” and “future” and “love” in the exact same sentence?

Yeah, that's clearly new.

So naturally is totally understandable that Sam needed some time to acclimate to the changed situations. 

Weeks. 

Months. 

And if he's being honest with himself, even now, almost a year later, he still finds himself baffled from time to time.

But yes, for the most part he's happy for Dean.

Because the thing he has with Castiel, it's something he never had before. It's intense and real. It's a honest-to-God grown-up relationship.

At first from the outside it actually didn't seem like all that much had changed. They still argued with each other and fought about the exact same shit they fought about before. Dean called Castiel names and Castiel did the same in return. They glared at one another across the room, making anybody in their vicinity extremely uncomfortable.

Just like before.

Though nowadays they have an outlet for all the pent-up anger, Sam presumes. At least after a very loud disagreement they more often than not suddenly disappear within the depths of the bunker and later show their faces again with the most dazed smiles on their features, making it more than obvious what they had been up to in the meantime.

Sam really doesn't want to think about it, but unfortunately it happens so frequently it's hard to ignore.

For now he's just glad he only walked in on them during various stages of sex three times so far. Considering how often they're at it, especially when Dean returns from a hunt, it's actually a Heavenly miracle Sam doesn't surprise them several times a week.

Sure, at those particular instances he saw some naked body parts he never wanted to see _ever_ , but in the grand scheme of things it could be much worse, so he decided to live with it. And pray for the day somebody finally invents brain bleach.

So yes, there are the fights and the sex.

And these are things Sam totally saw coming when Dean and Castiel got together.

But he certainly didn't expect the softness.

It's subtle. It's quiet.

It's Castiel bringing Dean a small flower after a walk outside and Dean blushing an impressive shade of red. It's Castiel casually mentioning he's a bit hungry and Dean instantly making him a sandwich. It's them cuddling on the couch during a movie marathon. It's Dean making a bad joke and Castiel rolling his eyes at him, looking both so done and yet so fond it's almost disgusting to witness. It's Castiel whispering something underneath his breath and Dean shooting him a gentle smile.

And it's Sam holding Castiel's phone in his hand because he's copying a number from the address book as suddenly a message from Dean pops up. Before Sam is able to react in any way he reads a _“thinking about you”_ attached right underneath a picture. With dawning horror he realizes this might very well be a dick pic, considering Dean has been on a hunt in Ohio for almost a week now and distance makes them both even hornier than usual, so Sam is more than ready to fling the phone far away from him before his eyes might catch something they will never be able to unsee.

But then the photo gets clearer and instead of unspeakable things showing up on the screen it's just two jars standing next to each other. One peanut butter, the other jelly.

Castiel's favorite.

Sam just has time to blink when another message arrives.

“ _love you. can't wait to be back home with you.”_

Damn.

It's sweet and tender and after all this time Sam actually shouldn't be surprised anymore, but he just can't help himself. 

He clears his throat and shoves the phone right back at Castiel who has been sitting across from him the entire time. Castiel gives him a funny look at first, probably puzzled by Sam's reaction, but soon his features soften when he notices Dean's message. His eyes are full of affection and love as he installs the picture as his screen saver.

And in that very moment Sam suddenly realizes with absolute clarity that Castiel will one day become his brother-in-law.

Maybe pretty soon or perhaps in a few years. But at this point it's inevitable.

_Damn_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed this little peace :)
> 
> And there will be more in the not so distant future. I'm working on several installments – among other things an about 8k words long “angst with happy ending” one shot – and I'm sure it'll be even more soon, considering my vacation starts in a couple of days and I've got quite a lot of extra free time on my hands :D
> 
> You're also more than welcome to inspire me and give me some prompts for this universe :) Can be the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff or some good old-fashioned who-needs-plot-anyway smut, it might be a different POV or maybe some instance lying in the past (like Dean and Cas' first meeting, for example) or whatever pops up in your mind – I'm open to any suggestions!
> 
> Shoot ahead, I've got some time to kill the next few weeks ;D


	9. Nice Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Castiel finds himself interrupted from a very intense dream. Thank God Dean is there and looks more delicious than ever.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** Explicit
> 
> **Tags:** Sexual Content, Bottom Dean, mild Sub Dean, Manhandling, brief mention of switching
> 
> +
> 
> I was in the mood for some good old-fashioned PWP kinky smut!
> 
> And since I noticed I've never written anything porny from Cas' POV, I was more than happy to change that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> -

_ Panting. _

_ Gasping. _

_ Moaning. _

_ Slick skin sliding against each other. _

_ The rustling of sheets. _

_ Moving. _

_ Thrusting. _

_ A hard cock brushing over the puckered hole. _

_ So tempting.  _

_ So inviting. _

_ Trembling limbs. _

_ Groaning. _

“ _Fuck, babe, c'mon, I need you …”_

_ Hissing. _

_ Shoving. _

_ Kissing that is more tongues than lips. _

_ Thrusting. _

“ _Shit, you're so big … filling me up so good …”_

_ Motions. _

_ The bed creaking and shuddering. _

“ _Can't get enough of you and your cock –!”_

_ Hands roaming over sweaty skin. _

_ The most perfect skin of them all. _

“ _Fuck, so big …”_

_ So much heat wrapped around his dick. _

_ So tight. _

_ So hot. _

_ Such absolute bliss. _

“ _I'm so close, babe …”_

_ So close. _

_ So very close …  _

A loud banging noise suddenly fills the air and Castiel finds himself jolting awake. He lets out a yelp that actually might be a scream and he jerks into an upright position.

For a long moment he has no idea where he is or what even happened. The sensation of naked skin against his, filthy words whispered into his ear, pleasure and lust sucking the air right out of the room – all of that is way too prominent for him to have any kind of coherent thought.

He moans quietly, not caring at all where he is.

But after a while his senses return, slowly but steadily. He notices he's lying on the couch in their living room, a fuzzy blanket thrown over his body, the light of the TV bathing everything in its near vicinity into a dim blue. He recalls having a nice movie night with Dean, including popcorn and cuddling and make-out sessions. And apparently Castiel fell asleep at some point.

Another noise makes Castiel turn toward the kitchen where Dean is getting a beer out of the fridge. He seems relaxed and hums underneath his breath to a melody only alive in his head.

Castiel stares at him for a moment before realizing that it's probably been Dean startling him out of his very vivid dream. He probably put their dirty dishes into the dishwasher (at least Castiel can't spot them anywhere) and accidentally made enough noise to jolt Castiel awake.

Castiel chews on his bottom lip.

The dream is still gripping him rather tightly. At least his skin buzzes all over and the erection in his pants is impossible to miss. He's so hard he could most likely drill a hole in the couch and get away with it.

Castiel takes a deep breath. 

For a moment he considers to will it all away, the images of the dream, the moaning and writhing, the sensation, _everything_ , and either force his boner down with the most unsexy thoughts he can manage or discreetly take care of it himself in the bathroom, no one else but himself the wiser.

But then Dean swings his hips to the song in his head and Castiel finds himself enthralled.

The hunter is merely wrapped into a loose t-shirt and some old sweatpants. The same attire Castiel is wearing right now and which under normal circumstances wouldn't make anyone's blood boil to near explosion.

But Castiel is aroused – so _very_ aroused – and Dean is absolutely delicious, no matter what he's wearing, and Castiel just _wants_.

He wants so freaking badly.

He wants to experience the end of the dream. He wants the groaning and begging. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin. Over and over and over. He wants to feel trembling muscles beneath his fingertips. He wants his lover to plead for mercy and encourage him to go harder at the same time. He wants to feel the sweet sensation of release.

He wants his lover to whisper his name in a broken tone.

He wants _Dean_.

Right here, right now.

So without second guessing himself and his ability to make rational choices he scrambles off the couch and strides into the kitchen, like a man on a mission. His eyes fixed on Dean's back who's still singing quietly, not having the faintest clue what is about to come down on him.

Without any preamble whatsoever Castiel pushes Dean against the fridge, his chest shoved right into the cold metal. It's hard, it's violent, and it's sends an exciting thrill down Castiel's spine.

“What the –?” the hunter hisses, his whole body tensing up and automatically going into defense mode.

But before he's able to throw any punches Castiel aligns his entire front with Dean's back and nibbles on the hunter's earlobe. Dean makes a tiny sound in the back of his throat as he realizes the identity of his attacker and instantly melts under his touch.

“You woke me up from my dream,” Castiel whispers as he pushes his hips against Dean's ass, his hard cock definitely noticeable despite the layers of fabric.

Dean quivers all over. “Oh _fuck_.”

“It was a very nice dream,” Castiel clarifies. His fingers wander underneath Dean's shirt, brushing over his skin, his stomach, feeling all the heat. It's absolutely magnificent.

“I – I can feel that,” Dean says, now panting. “That – that is was a nice dream, I mean.”

Castiel hums into his ear.

“I was so close,” he says. “And then you woke me up.”

Dean grunts when Castiel finds one of his nipples and starts to tug at it. “I – I'm sorry, babe.”

“You _should_ be sorry,” Castiel agrees, enjoying the feeling of Dean squirming in his arms immensely. He's hard and warm and smells downright amazing and Castiel's throat suddenly seems all dry. 

He's thirsty. Thirsty for Dean and his moans and his body and his pleasure.

He wants to spread him out and use him.

Badly.

“I should punish you for waking me up,” he growls lowly and revels in Dean making a weak noise at that. “I should make you beg for mercy.”

Dean whimpers as he loses a bit of his balance, only kept upright by Castiel still having him pressed against the fridge.

“Is that what you want?” Castiel breathes with a husky voice. “To beg?”

Shamelessly he grabs Dean's crotch and feels quite delighted as he notices his boyfriend already getting hard. Castiel loves how responsive Dean is to about anything that is done to him.

Loving and affectionate, hard and rough, deep and soulful. It doesn't matter, Dean always had no problem at all to give himself to Castiel to his fullest and fall apart underneath his hands.

So Castiel doesn't hesitate for a second as he spurs into action. He whirls around and pushes Dean down, bends him over the kitchen counter, right by the sink, and uses all his strength to keep the hunter in place.

Dean hisses and groans and even wiggles a little bit, like he wants to escape Castiel's tight grip, however, the growing bulge in his sweatpants certainly tells another story. 

“I hope you don't mind, but I have every intention to ravish you right here on the spot,” Castiel informs him almost matter-of-factly. Only the brief waver in his voice might indicate how affected he is by the entire thing. “If you have any objections, please voice them now.”

Dean's only answer is a muffled noise and his legs spreading wider in clear invitation.

The most wonderful sight.

“So good for me,” Castiel purrs, his mind fogging up with nothing but lust. Having Dean laid out like this, for his to take, to touch, to use for his own pleasure, is almost too much to handle.

Castiel doesn't waste any time opening up Dean's pants and shoving them down, right with his boxer briefs. It's one smooth motion, the clothes having been loose on his body anyway, almost as though they were begging him to get ripped off, and soon enough they find themselves pooled around Dean's ankles.

Castiel hums, all kinds of pleased as he studies the sight in front of him. Dean's face pressed onto the counter, his hands clenching desperately for something to hold onto in anticipation for what is about to come, his perfect ass right in the air, presented to Castiel like the most delicious gift, and his cock hard and neglected and probably eager for a strong grip.

Castiel enjoys the display in front of him for another minute, but it's not long for his own desire to take the reigns again.

He opens a drawer close by and gets himself the lube that's stashed inside. They started to scatter lubrication all over the house for convenience, considering that more often than not they find themselves in a moment of passion and don't have the energy to rush to the bedroom to get their supplies. It's rather efficient that way and turns the whole place into their playground.

At least right now Castiel is more than glad for being so well prepared. He's not sure he would have been able to drag Dean upstairs due to the state he's currently in.

The state they're both currently in.

“Cas, _please_ ,” Dean pants, sticking out his ass even more. Like he can't wait for Castiel to get all over it. “Need you …”

Castiel grabs his ass cheek and squeezes it tightly, almost close to painfully, while reveling in seeing Dean starting to fidget.

“You need me to punish you?” he breathes.

Dean nods quickly. “Woke you up,” he says, his voice more than croaky. “Woke you up … from your dream …”

“You did,” Castiel agrees. “That wasn't very nice of you.”

He squishes some of the lube onto his fingers and quickly warms them up before going straight for Dean's hole. He brushes against the rim and watches Dean's legs shake with a pleased grin, loving the effect he has on the hunter.

“You wanna help me finish my dream?” Castiel whispers. “I was so close …”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Dean responds keenly.

Castiel hums. “So eager for me,” he purrs. “So eager to be punished. To learn your lesson.”

Dean seems on the verge of saying something, but it turns into a garbled mess as Castiel pushes one finger inside and goes straight for the prostate, no shortcuts or anything.

Usually he enjoys himself a nice and long foreplay, the teasing and taking his time, but right now he's here to claim what has been denied to him before, quick and dirty.

Dean is hot and tight and groans loudly as Castiel instantly increases the speed. It doesn't take long for two fingers to fuck Dean open, rough and without any kind of mercy. Castiel prods and massages the prostate, knowing exactly what buttons to push to get his desired reactions, while Dean falls apart underneath him.

Panting.

Gasping.

Moaning.

Just like in the dream. 

Even more perfect because this is real and Dean is so very real and Castiel loves and desires him more than anybody else before. 

Everything else pales in comparison.

“You're so good for me,” Castiel whispers into his ear as he leans a bit forward. “Are you ready for your lesson now?”

Dean makes a noise in response that almost sounds like a sob.

And then he spreads his legs even wider, expressing, _“I'm ready to take anything you're giving me”_ loud and clear.

Castiel licks his lips and opens his pants with one hand while he still holds Dean's head down with the other. Both sweatpants and boxers find themselves on the ground in a matter of milliseconds.

It's kinda hard and a bit of a mess to prepare himself one-handed, though, but the thought of letting go, even for a moment, is unbearable. He'd rather have a bit of lube on his kitchen floor than not tugging on Dean's hair and pushing him down.

However, in the end his dick is properly prepared and Castiel doesn't waste any time as he goes all in one quick motion.

“Oh _FUCK_!” Dean yelps, clearly not having expected that, and he desperately grips the faucet to hold onto, his whole body twitching and shuddering as he takes Castiel all in.

To nobody's surprise he opens wonderfully to Castiel, tight and warm and so perfect it almost brings tears to his eyes. Every single time it's the most amazing thing and Castiel would happily stay this way forever if that would be anatomically possible.

That had never stopped them from trying, though. Many times, in many different positions.

Castiel certainly is blessed beyond belief.

He roams his hands over every patch of skin he can reach as he allows Dean a moment to get used to the sudden fullness. He brushes over his shoulder blades, his back, his ass, and in the end takes a very special interest in the inside of his thigh. He knows a lot of important nerve endings and pressure points being located there and he softly pushes them to enhance Dean's personal experience.

As expected Dean's thighs start to tremble and he curses underneath his breath.

“Speak!” Castiel orders. “I wanna hear you.”

Dean doesn't waste any time to moan expressively into the kitchen counter.

“Fuck, Cas,” he pants. “… your cock …”

Castiel grins as he can't help recalling the dream. “You like being filled up like that?”

Dean scoffs as though the mere question is absolutely ridiculous. “I _love_ it,” he corrects. “ _God_ … you filling me up so good, babe …”

Castiel begins to move, only a little bit, and Dean whimpers again.

“Do you have any idea how you're looking right now?” Castiel presses through his teeth. “Spread out like a delicious meal. So filthy and obscene. And all mine.”

“Yours,” Dean hurries to agree, nodding his head frantically despite Castiel still pushing him down. “All yours.”

Castiel surely loves to hear that confirmation.

And he takes it as permission to do with that ass whatever he pleases.

Normally he would have started slow and pick up his pace eventually, build up anticipation and intimacy, but right now he's on edge since the moment Dean startled him out of his dream and he's so freaking aroused his view actually starts to blur.

He _needs_ Dean.

Now.

So he instantly jumps into a quick and brutal pace.

Dean yelps and sobs and holds into that faucet for dear life, Castiel fucking his hole raw and fast without any kind of mercy. Castiel feels a bit like a jackhammer, taking and taking and taking, getting deeper and deeper and deeper, and for a moment Dean is just a tool, a means to an end to finally get his release.

And apparently Dean seems more than fine with it.

At least he neither voices any kind of displeasure, uses his safe word or even punches Castiel in the face. Dean certainly has many ways to express himself and Castiel naturally would step away immediately if the hunter wouldn't enjoy himself anymore.

After all, even if Castiel feels a bit selfish right now as he fucks Dean relentlessly to take what he so desperately needs, this is still a two-man show. It's about both their pleasures and Castiel wouldn't want it any other way.

And so he gives it all he's got.

At some point Dean actually starts screaming, but Castiel straightaway notices it's the good kind of screaming and he finds himself even picking up his pace. He wants Dean to yell and scream, to beg and cry, and to come all over himself.

Castiel wants to take him apart.

And he wants to fall apart himself.

More than anything.

And at least the latter won't be any problem at all. Having Dean underneath him and making all those noises is the hugest turn on all on itself, but his hole being so hot and tightening up whenever Castiel finds the right angle?

Yeah, he definitely won't survive that for long.

He gets lost in the sensation, the warmth, the tightness, Dean's slick skin, his pants and growls and ungodly swears, him muttering Castiel's name in that broken voice of his, like it's a benediction, as though there is nothing more important.

Castiel has no idea how much time passes. Perhaps merely seconds. Or maybe, by some miracle, his stamina is actually strong enough to reach a few minutes.

He doesn't know. The only thing he's aware of is pleasure reigning every single cell of his body. His muscles tingle, his bones ache, his skin is hot and sweaty. 

And his hips are moving on autopilot.

In. Out. In. Out.

Fast. Eager for the feeling of Dean's body taking him in hungrily. 

Thrusting deeper and deeper.

Into that beautiful heat that makes him groan and see stars.

In. Out. In. Out.

Pounding.

Gasping.

Shoving.

In. Out. In. Out.

Dean falling apart and turning into an utter mess.

His ass apparently desperate to meet Castiel's movements somehow, but he is shaky all over and his body refuses to work the way he wants it to.

So he keeps on clenching his hands and muttering incoherent nonsense with some curse words mixed within and grabs both the faucet and the kitchen counter like a lifeline. Like he'd burst into a million pieces if he'd ever dare to let go.

In. Out. In. Out.

Thrusting.

Panting.

Moaning.

It's so many powerful sensations all in one and Castiel has no chance to distinguish them in any way.

And in the end it's all too much. 

So he falls over the edge.

Castiel doesn't even have time to contemplate whether he wants to come inside Dean or whether he'd like to spread his semen all over Dean's ass and back. It certainly would have painted a beautiful picture, that's for sure.

But the orgasm take its course before Castiel's dazed brain is able to make any sort of decision and he spills right into Dean's hole. And some primal instinct makes him fuck it even deeper, wants it to stay there, buried inside him.

Castiel groans and hisses “Dean!” over and over as he keeps moving his hips and rides the orgasm like a wave.

“ _Fuck_!” Dean exclaims just a moment later, his voice sounding weak and unsteady.

Castiel knows that tone way too well. He's close, too.

So as he keeps experiencing the aftershocks of his release and already feels his cock beginning to soften a little, he flings his free arm around Dean's hip and grabs the neglected dick nestled there.

It's hot and rock hard and leaking precome like crazy and Dean swears like a drunken sailor as soon as Castiel takes a hold of it. For a second the urge to drop to his knees, take it into his mouth and suck on it until Dean loses his very last braincell is almost overwhelming, but in the end Castiel goes for efficiency and begins to jack his boyfriend off. 

No finesse, no teasing, only quick and rough.

Dean gasps and sobs, clearly close to losing himself as his muscles start to shiver. His entire body seem to pulsate as Castiel works his cock with all the determination his post-orgasmic being is able to muster.

It can't be all that much because he feels exhausted and drained and so blissed out he's pretty sure a lot of his braincells died permanently in the process (which he gives not a single fuck about at the moment), but it appears more than enough for Dean.

Because just a second later, right when Castiel switched to fondling his balls, Dean shoots his load. He spills all over the kitchen floor and some nearby drawers and moans so loudly even their nonexistent neighbors are probably able to hear him.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he whimpers while Castiel continues to rub his dick and milk him to the very end. “Shit, shit, shit …”

Castiel loves to see him like this. Writhing. Cursing. Letting loose of the last bit of control he possessed and giving himself to the feeling entirely.

He's always the most beautiful when he decides to float.

Castiel presses one soft kiss on the nearest patch of skin he can reach – which turns out to be Dean's shoulder blade – before pulling out and staggering backward a few steps. The urge to keep holding Dean in his arms is strong, no doubt about that, but he needs some sensation back into his limbs first.

And more than anything, he has to _see_.

Watch the mess they both made. See the aftermath for himself.

And it's clearly obscene.

Dean still bent over the kitchen counter, sweat running down his skin, his pants on the floor, leaving him naked and exposed. His hole is red and fucked raw and leaking an impressive amount of come which all runs down Dean's trembling thighs.

Yes, all in all it's an absolutely scandalous picture.

Undoubtedly one of the hottest things Castiel has ever seen.

For a long while he just stares at the view, transfixed and repeatedly wondering if he's still dreaming somehow, while Dean pants and heaves deep breaths and obviously has a hard time coming back to his senses.

Castiel can barely believe _he_ did that.

He turned Dean Winchester – hunter extraordinaire, always cocky and smug and flirty, overconfident warrior – into this quivering mess.

Clearly one of his proudest accomplishments. Even if he won't tell anyone about it, for obvious reasons.

But then he spots Dean's phone on the counter next to him and decides that he might at least get himself a nice reminder. Just for himself.

His muscles are still shaking like crazy, so it takes a moment to grab the phone and push the right buttons, but soon enough he's got the camera open and shoots himself some nice photos. He uses several different angles to capture all of the nicest features displayed right in front of him and quickly sends them to his own phone before Dean might be able to delete them all.

“What the –?” Dean throws a glance over his shoulder and narrows his eyes at him. “Are you taking _pictures_ , asshole?”

Castiel grins. “Of course,” he confirms easily. “I need some stimulating visuals for the next time you're away on a hunt.”

Dean grunts and seems on the verge of voicing his protest very expressively, but then his knees finally fail to cooperate and he topples onto the ground very gracelessly.

“Oh fuck!” he complains, his pout so prominent it's downright cute.

Castiel is on his side right away. “You okay?”

Dean shoots him a dirty look. “If I'm _okay_? No, I'm not, you son of a bitch!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I only wanted to get myself a beer and suddenly you jump me and rip my clothes off – fuck, man, you're gonna kill me someday!”

Castiel runs his fingers through Dean's sweaty hair and tries not to look too amused. “You're exaggerating.”

“No, I'm not,” Dean insists. “One day you're gonna fuck me to death. I will wither away with your cock buried inside of me and you'll have the honor to describe my demise to my grieving family afterwards. That won't be a fun conversation.”

Castiel chuckles at the image. “It certainly doesn't sound very enjoyable.”

“Right?” Dean scoffs. “So maybe next time think before you act.”

Castiel raises his brow. “So next time I should just take care of any kind of erection all on my own and leave you out of it, is that it?”

Dean pauses and mulls those words over. “Well, uh … no,” he says after a moment of evaluation. “Just … don't attack me like that.”

Castiel grins widely. “Oh, you liked it.”

Dean pouts. “I did not.”

“You _did_ , you old grump.”

“I'm not an old –”

Castiel cuts him off with a kiss and though Dean seems determined to keep making his point he easily melts into it. It's soft and unhurried, lips on lips, tongues tentatively brushing each other, and Castiel starts to hum happily.

They probably look absolutely ridiculous, half naked, sitting on the kitchen floor, covered in sweat and come, but he doesn't give a single damn about it.

It feels perfect.

“How about we take a quick shower and grab some sleep?” Castiel suggests, massaging Dean's skull and enjoying his fierce attempts not to purr at the sensation. “I don't know about you, but I'm pretty beat.”

Dean snorts. “I'm not even sure I'm gonna make it up the stairs.” He eyes the staircase warily. “I'll give it a try, though.”

Castiel kisses him again because at the end of the day, how could he not? Dean surely doesn't complain about that treatment as he drags Castiel even closer.

“And if you happen to have another dream tonight,” Dean whispers against his boyfriend's lips a moment later, “I guess it would be alright to ask me out for help again. I mean, because I'm generous like that and all.”

Castiel nuzzles his cheeks and presses a soft smile into his skin. “My hero.”

  
  


\---

  
  


Castiel doesn't have another dream.

He sleeps like a baby through the entire night, his mind blessedly blank.

Dean, on the other hand, obviously has his turn this time as he ends up with a lot of passionate images pestering him for the better part of his sleep.

At least he wakes Castiel up the next morning and growls into his ear, “This is all _your_ fault, dickwad, making me all horny and messing with my head!” before he goes straight to eating Castiel out rather thoroughly and afterwards fucking him into the mattress hard and relentlessly for what feels like hours. While Castiel is more than happy to indulge him.

After all, Dean did the same for him in return, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fans some air into your direction*
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it 😏
> 
> And there will be more on its way pretty soon!  
> After all, I noticed today that "Shot Through The Heart" is celebrating its one-year anniversary this Friday :D So I'm gonna make extra sure that I'll have the big installment I'm currently writing on (hopefully) ready on time for that special occasion!!
> 
> Prepare for some angst, idiots in love, emotions and a happy ending :))
> 
> Until then, my friends!!


	10. One Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> Dean plans something special for their one year anniversary.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** General Audience
> 
> **Tags:** Fluff, ALL THE FLUFF
> 
> +
> 
> A special timestamp for the one year anniversary of “Shot Through The Heart” :D And as you can see it's not the installment I had originally planned because a) that one is growing way bigger than I anticipated, and b) because I figured we could really use some super shameless fluff for this joyous occasion!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for all your continued support, you're absolutely amazing 💗
> 
> -

Dean is right in the middle of munching his cereal when he's suddenly, completely out of the blue, hit with an abrupt realization.

“Damn, next week is our one year anniversary.”

Sam, the only one currently sitting in the kitchen with him, looks up from his own bowl and rises his eyebrows. “Um … okay?”

Dean finds himself shaking his head in absolute disbelief. “I mean, _a year_? Can you imagine?”

Sam scoffs lowly. “Considering the fact most of my life I wasn't even sure you're capable to spell 'relationship' properly, yeah, it's pretty baffling.”

Technically he is kinda right, but Dean nonetheless shoots him a dirty look and slaps him upside down over the head. Just out of principle.

And because of older sibling privilege.

“Thanks a lot for your lovely support, bitch,” he hisses.

“You're welcome, jerk,” Sam says with a wide grin. “I'm always happy to help.”

Dean grumbles, but his mind is way too distracted again to dwell on it for long. His thoughts drift back to Castiel and the fact that they've been together for _a fucking year_ now and it feels sorta terrifying, but also more than right.

Sure, over the last year he had a lot of moments where he suddenly perked up and whispered, “Oh shit, I'm in an adult relationship!”. Most of the time that epiphany stroke him in quite ridiculous situations, to be honest. Like when he was picking up some clothes for Castiel from the dry cleaner or was buying Castiel's favorite cream cheese on autopilot.

Or when he was falling asleep with his boyfriend in his arms and the thought of getting naked and having their wicked ways with each other wasn't even crossing his mind, way too happy and content to just lie there and cuddle.

His past self probably would've called him whipped. An old, lazy man who lost his bite.

But now? Damn, sometimes snuggling up on the couch and watching some cheesy movies just seems more fun than fucking each other all over the house. And in these moments Dean doesn't feel like he's missing anything.

(And it's not like they don't do a lot of fucking most of the other times anyway.)

Yeah, Dean is happy with what he has.

More than happy.

And he can't wait to see that turn into years and _years_.

“You wanna do anything special?” Sam asks. And then adds, when Dean stares at him in confusion, “For your anniversary, I mean.”

Oh right.

“Nah, man,” Dean waves him off. “We don't do anniversaries.”

Apart from the flowers he'll get because Castiel is a sappy idiot they never do anything special. Just spend some time together, have a nice meal, and perhaps make love in front of the fireplace.

It can't get any better than that anyway.

“So you don't wanna get Cas at least a little gift?” Sam wonders.

Dean tilts his head. “I mean, there is something … I've been thinking about it for a while, to be honest.” He sighs. “It's a huge step, though. Not just a gift.”

Sam seems intrigued now. “What is it?”

Dean merely smirks, though. “You'll see, little brother. You'll see.”

  
  


\---

  
  


On the day of their anniversary Dean gets his bouquet of flowers.

And an intense and hot make-out session against the kitchen counter.

How could a man ask for more?

  
  


\---

  
  


“I've got you something as well,” Dean announces a while later when they finally managed to disentangle their limbs long enough to make it to the couch. “It's not really a gift, though … and I don't have it yet, per se –”

The corners of Castiel's mouth tug upwards in amusement. “Sounds ominous.”

Dean rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “It's just, I haven't found it yet, you know?” he tries to explain without giving too much away. “It _needs_ to be the perfect fit … and it's really much more than a simple present or something …”

Castiel leans in, clearly curious now. “And I assume you won't tell me what it is until you found it?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel chuckles. “You're quite the tease, Winchester.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I just – the anniversary made me think of it, so I wanted you to _know_ , at least. That I'm not just an ungrateful idiot who never gives you anything …”

Castiel's expression turns quite earnest at that. “You gave me way more than you can ever imagine.” He presses a soft kiss onto Dean's lips. “And you continue to do so, every single day.”

Dean feels his throat closing up and quickly covers it up by snorting right into Castiel's face. Because he's classy and romantic like that. “You're a real sap, man.”

Castiel, however, sees right through him, like always. “You love it.”

Dean huffs. “I love _you_.”

And yeah, that's probably even sappier.

Castiel laughs, low and happy. “I'm just saying you don't have to feel obligated to give me anything,” he says. And hastily adds as Dean is already opening his mouth to object, “But I see how important this is to you. So I'll allow it.”

Dean smirks. “How generous of you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

And so Dean does.

After all, who is he to protest here?

  
  


\---

  
  


In the end the entire endeavor takes close to four months.

It turned out to be way more difficult than Dean expected. His options weren't exactly endless and he had to consider important issues like location and timing to make this all happening. Not to mention that his life got rather busy the following weeks and he experienced a couple of setbacks, work-wise as well as personal.

So yeah, it wasn't really a cake walk, in many ways.

But then he found it.

The perfect fit.

  
  


\---

  
  


It's on the next Saturday when he drags Castiel into the Impala and tells him to get ready for a surprise.

Castiel appears rather intrigued, but it's obvious he doesn't even consider that this might have anything to do with their anniversary. And to be fair, it's been a few months and lots of stuff had happened in between, so it's more than understandable he actually forgot about that.

Castiel asks Dean prodding questions the entire drive, quite excited as they pass town after town. It's actually rather cute to see him that giddy and Dean is pretty sure he falls a little bit more in love with him as he watches him squirm on his seat like a little toddler.

And in the end, after over an hour later, they reach their destination.

Castiel instantly falls silent when he realizes it's an animal shelter.

For a moment he studies the building warily, probably considering that Dean's maybe just using the parking space while actually being much more interested in the diner next door.

And though that establishment indeed is rather recommendable, as Dean learned over the course of last week, it's certainly not his goal today.

So he takes Castiel's hand and leads him inside the shelter, the whole time trying for casual while his heart is going crazy inside his chest. _This_ is the moment and he actually has no real idea how Castiel might react. Dean's stomach is in knots for days now, but he came too far to back out in the last minute.

No, he will see this through, no matter what.

Castiel remains silent and very wide-eyed as he follows Dean to the wing of the building where the cats are. Hundred pairs of eyes are watching every move they make, in several states of alertness, making it absolutely impossible to sneak inside without being detected in a matter of milliseconds.

Dean, however, merely ignores them all and goes straight for the little cage at the end. Just like the last few times he's been here.

And he finds himself smiling softly as two balls of fur lowly meow at him when he comes to an halt in front of them.

“Dean?” Castiel asks, his voice small now.

Dean just throws him a gentle look before kneeling down to be closer to the two cats. They eagerly step to the bars and generously allow him to massage their heads.

“Remember our one year anniversary?” Dean wonders. “When I told you I had something to give you, but hadn't find the perfect fit yet?”

Castiel's eye grow even wider as realization hits him.

“This one here is Molly,” Dean introduces the dark brown tabby to his right, “and this one is her sister Chloe,” he says as he rubs the other cat's ears carefully, more than thankful that Chloe's got a white spot on her chest to distinguish her from her sister and make it much easier for Dean to keep them apart.

“They're looking for a new home,” he states, his throat getting a bit dry now as he averts Castiel's gaze. “And I thought … well, maybe …”

Castiel makes a tiny gasping sound.

“You want to adopt them?”

Dean shrugs and hopes he looks way more nonchalant than he feels. “Yeah, why not? You always wanted a cat, right?”

Castiel blinks.

“Dean …”

“And I know it's actually two,” Dean continues, sensing a ramble coming its way and being unable to stop it. “I intended to just look for one, but the people working here told me that cats are actually quite social creatures and of course I don't want our cat to be miserable. And I mean, they're sisters, right? It would be cruel to split them up.”

For a long moment Castiel stays quiet and just glances between Dean and the cats with an expression on his features no human being would be able to decipher.

And in the end he says, “But you're allergic.”

Dean can't help a chuckle. “Cas …”

“This is unbelievably sweet of you,” Castiel goes on, “and I don't even know what to say, but … I don't want you to have to take anti-allergy pills for the rest of your life. I can't ask this of you. That wouldn't be fair.”

He already looks quite conflicted, though, as he notices Chloe staring at him with big, adorable eyes, obviously eager for a little petting action as well.

Castiel, however, holds himself back, as though he doesn't want to risk ending up heartbroken if he'd bond with the cats accidentally.

“Cas,” Dean whispers in the meantime, his voice laced with affection as he tenderly takes Castiel's hand and urges him to kneel down right next to him. Castiel goes along with it, but he still looks highly wary. As if just one minute too long and he would be irrevocably in love with these cats.

Which, to be fair, actually happened to Dean, so it's a very genuine fear.

“Cas, babe,” Dean whispers before pressing a quick kiss to Castiel's temple. “These are Siberian cats. They're anti-allergenic.”

Castiel pauses.

And frowns at that.

“There are a few cat breeds that are quite suitable for people like me,” Dean explains with a gentle smile. “And Siberian cats are one of them. They don't shed much, even though they look like major fluffballs, they're rather low-maintenance and easy-going.” He winks at both Molly and Chloe. “And I've been here three times already, to really test it out. Just to be sure since of course allergies can still be a bitch sometimes. I basically shoved their fur in my face and waited for the sneezing to come. But turns out those ladies and I, we're good to go.”

Molly meows in response while Chloe yawns rather impressively.

Yes, those two already stole his heart. Who would have thought?

“I mean, why did you think we made the effort to drive over an hour here?” Dean asks with a chuckle. “If those two were just regular cats we could've gone to the shelter fifteen minutes from home. No, it took some time and lots of research to find the right fit.”

Castiel gapes at him.

“So … you're allergies didn't act up?” He still sounds hesitant, but there is a clear note of hope in his tone now.

“I'm super fine with them, I promise,” Dean states. “The people working here put us in a separate room, so I wouldn't be affected by all the other cats, and let us spend time with each other. And we had lots of fun together, didn't we, girls?”

Molly meows again, apparently eager to agree to anything. Chloe merely blinks.

“I mean, my allergies have never been that bad anyway,” Dean says. “Sneezing, sure, but I never felt like I was suffocating or close to dying around a cat or anything. So I'm an easy case that way. The lady running this place, though, still recommended that we should declare our bedroom a cat-free zone, just to make sure they don't sleep on my pillow or something. But that's been my plan all along, to be honest, so that's fine with me. I mean, I don't know about you, but we do a lot of things in that room which aren't exactly appropriate for little, innocent cats, don't you think?”

Castiel stills seems all kinds of shell-shocked.

“Are you … are you sure?”

“You know me, Cas, _of course_ I'm sure,” Dean states. “Like I said on our anniversary, this is not a gift or something. It's an offer. Which you can take or not.” He heaves a deep breath. “But to be perfectly honest, those two have already wrapped me around their paws, so they'll have to go with me, no matter what. Besides, I've already bought a bunch of cat stuff and hid them in the garage and I'm really not in the mood to give that all back. So if you don't want them, then sorry, we just have to break up because I can't leave them here anymore –”

Castiel starts to laugh.

Loud and relaxed and happy.

And then he leans forward and presses a deep kiss onto Dean's lips.

“I love you,” he whispers. “You idiot.”

Dean pouts at that, but Castiel is already way too busy to finally greet Molly and Chloe properly and rub their backs like he's never done anything else in his life before. The cats certainly start purring immediately and stare at him as though he hung the moon and the stars.

Dean considers to feel some jealousy, but then he has to admit it's more than relatable. Falling in love with Castiel is inevitable after all.

“You do realize this is a lot of commitment, though, right?” Castiel wonders teasingly. “Adopting two cats together and everything.”

Dean grins crookedly. “Well, what can I say? You're an easy guy to get along with.”

Castiel quickly leans in for another kiss.

“I love you,” he says again. “And tonight, in our cat-free zone, I will show you how much.”

Dean feels a pleasant shiver running down his spine. “Can't wait.”

  
  


\---

  
  


So in the end it happens that they become cat parents on a sunny Saturday.

Dean and Castiel are happy. Molly and Chloe are extra happy.

And Sam is close to crying when he meets his new nieces, the softy.

Yeah, life is good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siberian cats are super beautiful as I learned thanks to this timestamp and I might very well be in love 😍
> 
> If you're interested, here are my references for [MOLLY](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://www.fressnapf.de/medias/sibirische-katze-header.jpg?context%3DbWFzdGVyfGltYWdlc3wyMzU1MjB8aW1hZ2UvanBlZ3xpbWFnZXMvaDAxL2hlYi85Njc2MDc3ODI2MDc4LmpwZ3xlMjljNDhjMjhmZjg4MzM0NWY4YmVlYzZiYmQwNWQzNjFjYTU0MzQ3ZTViOGJmN2Q4YWI3NmM2MzQ1OTEzNGU5&imgrefurl=https://www.fressnapf.de/ratgeber/katze/rasseportraits/sibirische-katze&h=350&w=960&tbnid=91xyni6p26pxwM&tbnh=135&tbnw=372&usg=AI4_-kRbazBLV6tVabsK9bFs-SAvrAPbbw&vet=1&docid=AlJDPWF9XXp8aM) and [CHLOE](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://mediafiles.mein-haustier.de/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/shutterstock_545113687-1-e1540826598660.jpg&imgrefurl=https://www.mein-haustier.de/katzenrassen/sibirische-katze/&h=1243&w=1920&tbnid=nozI_-ZNXQzsMM&tbnh=181&tbnw=279&usg=AI4_-kRp1yUVlr9vNdElGoxrICkRAWCpIg&vet=1&docid=-S7dOP_eh0BdiM) :))


	11. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> After a bad hunt nothing seems to Dean lure out of his room and Sam almost loses hope to ever see his brother genuinely smile again. But then things change when Castiel shows up.
> 
> -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> **Rating:** Teen and Up Audience
> 
> **Tags:** Hurt/Comfort, Sam POV, Mental Health Issues
> 
> **Chronology:** This takes place about a year before the events of “Shot Through The Heart”
> 
>  
> 
> +
> 
> Idea inspired by the lovely [Reaggrimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reaggrimes/pseuds/Reaggrimes)!
> 
> Thank you so much for the awesome prompt 💗
> 
> -

Being a hunter isn't an easy job.

Not even close.

Next to the fact that it's pretty dangerous and you're at a high risk of getting maimed or worse there is also the chance of _others_ ending up maimed or worse and you being unable to do anything about it.

Sam has seen it many times before and it's one of the reasons he decided to work for the Men of Letters instead. He's still close to a lot of heartbreaking fates that way, but at least it's not a first-hand experience. Most of the times he doesn't have to look the people in the eye, doesn't have to witness the utter devastation in the expressions of families and friends who lost their loved ones by something they don't even understand.

Sam certainly never envied the hunters for this. Their first motto is “You can't save everyone” for a reason.

And sure, most of them got themselves a rather thick skin and manage to get through it somehow, but once in a while there are still the super bad cases you barely can get over.

Like with Dean.

Dean is used to losing people on hunts. Innocent victims, bystanders, and once or twice even fellow hunters. Naturally it's hard every single time, but he forces himself to get through it. Usually by throwing himself into his work and killing as many supernatural bastards as he can find. 

However, this time it's different.

Because this time Dean lost a kid.

Of course it's always extra hard when children are involved in this and Dean gets overemotional every single time. Kids are his soft spot and to see them dragged into such a harsh world, into darkness, pain and despair, it weighs on his very soul.

But this time it turned out to be extra gruesome. At least according to Garth that fifteen-year-old boy wasn't only killed but ripped to shreds by a ghoul right in front of Dean's eyes. Apparently the boy had been around for most of the hunt, giving them cluex about the location and lore in the area, and on that faithful night he had followed Dean and Garth onto the cemetery out of curiosity.

Dean tried to save him, tried to outrun time. But he wasn't fast enough and the monster got to the boy first.

And it hit Dean very hard.

After killing the ghoul and almost burning the entire cemetery down to the ground he instantly crawled into his protective shell and gave no indication to ever wanting to come out again. He even let Garth drive the Impala back to the bunker, his mind too far away to even care, and if that's not the the biggest flag Sam has ever seen he has no idea what is.

And entire week has passed since then and Dean hadn't left his room even once apart from quick bathroom visits. He keeps himself buried underneath blankets and fuzzy socks and horror movie marathons and ignores every single attempt of socializing. 

And Sam worries.

  
  


\--- 

  
  


He tries.

Tries to lure his brother out of his shell.

Sam uses everything in his arsenal he can think of. Greasy food, ridiculously sweet pastries, porn magazines, facetiming Mom. He even presents Dean a bunch of new hunts, hoping that Dean's thirst for revenge might actually be triggered. Sam's never happy when Dean goes on a rampage like that, but it still seems preferable to wallowing in his room and losing any will to live.

He'd rather have Dean slaughtering some monsters than slipping into a deep depression.

But whatever Sam tries, Dean isn't interested. The most he gets is an annoyed grunt and a muffled, “Go away, Sammy!”

And Sam's worries grow.

  
  


\---

  
  


When they reach their second week Sam starts to seriously consider getting a professional.

The Men of Letter employ a bunch of specialist trained in trauma handling and mental health issues who were specifically prepared for these kinds of cases. They know how to deal with this sort of situation.

And though Sam is pretty sure Dean will refuse their help quite passionately out of principle, it seems worth a try anyway.

And if Dean would end up committing fratricide it would at least get him out of his room.

  
  


\---

  
  


Just when he thinks about talking with Anna about this issue Sam finds himself stopping in his tracks, right there at the kitchen's doorway, and stares with wide eyes at the picture in front of him.

It's Dean. 

Standing at the kitchen counter and slicing some onions.

Like it's any other day.

He even put on some sweatpants and obviously took a shower ( _finally_ ), looking absolutely normal as he prepares something that looks suspiciously like burger patties.

“Dean,” Sam says, unable to hide the awe in his voice.

Dean throws a look over his shoulder that actually appears completely casual. “Heya, Sammy.”

Sam blinks a few times, way too shell-shocked by everything that is happening right now.

“Uh … what are you doing?”

Dean scoffs. “Making burgers.”

“Making … burgers?”

It seems so surreal Sam seriously starts to wonder if he accidentally wandered into an alternate dimension. 

“Don't worry, I'm gonna get some rabbit food, too,” Dean adds. “I don't want you to cry over all the meat and grease.”

He even sounds a bit chipper.

What. The. Hell?

“You … you just wanted to make some burgers?” Sam asks tentatively. “Like that?”

“It's _his_ fault,” Dean grumbles, nodding his head to the side.

And suddenly Sam notices the other person in the room, sitting at the kitchen table and watching Dean's movement with mild interest.

Castiel.

Who had been on a research mission way up in the north with their Canadian partners for about month now and only returned the day before, very late in the night. Sam just had a chance to greet him before he shuffled into his room and fell headfirst into his bed after a long and hard day.

“This is not _my_ fault,” Castiel points out, scowling at Dean. “I've been starved. Close to death.”

Sam frowns, not sure if he's supposed to understand this or not. “What?”

“Those Canadian Men of Letters he stayed with were even crazier health nuts than you,” Dean explains, obviously knowing already enough about this story to be able to relay it perfectly. “Vegan stuff, all the time. And the bunker was located so deeply in the wilderness you couldn't just hop into your car and drive to the next burger joint like that.”

“They wanted me to eat _grain_ ,” Castiel says, sounding absolutely traumatized by the experience. “ _Unprocessed_ grain. I'm not even sure the human body is able to handle that.”

“So he barged into my room this morning and insisted I made my burgers,” Dean adds. “To make up for those miserable weeks of starvation.”

“I didn't _insist_ ,” Castiel objects, pouting at Dean. “I _asked_.”

“Dude, grabbing my feet and dragging me out of bed isn't _asking_ ,” Dean hisses, the fact that his hands are currently buried in hamburger meat probably the only reason he doesn't flail them around dramatically. “You're a fucking pushover, Cas.”

Cas huffs. “It's not my fault I didn't have anything decent to eat _for weeks_.”

“Oh, don't get your panties in a twist. I'm pretty sure you stopped at some diners or drive-thrus on your back here, right?”

“So?” Castiel asks. “Nothing beats your burgers.”

Dean keeps on mumbling harshly underneath his breath, but he also blushes slightly at Castiel's words and goes back to work.

And Sam stares at the scene in front of him incredulously and has no idea what to make of it.

  
  


\---

  
  


As expected Dean's burgers are delicious.

And instead of just eating a bite or two, like he did for the past few weeks, and then retreating back to his room in a hurry Dean actually stays around, swallows down an entire burger and interacts with everyone in an almost normal manner.

He jokes with Garth, flirts with Anna, argues with Castiel and shoots daggers at Balthazar after yet another very inappropriate comment about naked body parts. It seems like such a regular lunch Sam is close to tears.

Granted, there are still shadows underneath Dean's eyes and Sam highly doubts his brother is back to his old self and off on a hunt by the end of the day, but he smiles again and it actually seems somewhat genuine and that's way more than Sam could have hoped for.

And apparently he has Castiel to thank for that.

He has no real idea how it came to this, considering he and Dean are usually like cats and dogs, but he is grateful nonetheless.

So when Dean eventually leaves the kitchen the first thing Sam does is turn towards Castiel and say, “Thank you.”

“What for?” Castiel appears so sincerely confused by this it's actually possible he had absolutely no clue what was even going on and seriously just bothered Dean because he was desperate for some burgers.

In any case, Sam shoots him a wide smile and squeezes his shoulder.

“Thank you for just being you.”

  
  


\---

  
  


It's only a few hours later when Sam hears loud voices coming from their rec room.

(Or, as Dean likes to call it, the _Dean Cave_.)

(And considering he chose most of the furniture in there he probably has a right to name the room whatever he likes.)

Sam follows the voices and sees himself, once again, confronted with Dean and Castiel. This time Dean even managed to get into a non-stained shirt and Sam never thought he would ever be happy about such a sight, but here he is now, absolutely thrilled that his brother mustered enough energy to put on some clean clothes.

“ – _unacceptable_ , Cas!” Dean is just exclaiming, shaking his head in utter frustration. “How are you even alive?”

“You're exaggerating, Dean.” 

“I'm _definitely_ not.”

“It's just a movie –”

“It's not _one_ movie, Cas, dammit. It's a fucking saga.” Dean groans. “How is it possible you've never seen _Star Wars_? It's ridiculous.”

Castiel glowers. “I had no idea it's a requirement for life itself.”

“Oh, _it is_.”

Dean doesn't hesitate as he grabs Castiel's wrist and pulls him towards the couch. “We're gonna watch it, _now_ ,” he decides. “I don't care what else has been on your agenda today, this is far more important.”

Castiel looks put out, but for some reason doesn't object. Instead he stares at Dean holding onto him and obviously yielded to his fate.

Sam gapes at them some more for a while, but eventually he feels like a creeper and quickly retreats, only their voices following him now.

(“Why would he start with the fourth movie? That doesn't make any sense.” – “ _Oh my God,_ you're killing me, man!”)

Sam smiles.

  
  


\---

  
  


It goes on like this for several weeks.

Castiel dragging Dean to the grocery store and along the way exposing the hunter to sunshine and fresh air for the first time in a while. Dean showing Castiel easy car maintenance after being scandalized that Castiel obviously managed to get stranded in Canada because he didn't think about changing his oil once in a while. Castiel asking Dean's advice about some newly developed weapons and them spending an entire afternoon figuring out the best solutions. Dean forcing Castiel to watch every single _Star Wars_ movie and animated series _“so help me God”_.

Sam is pretty sure that Castiel learned at some point what went down with Dean and that hunt. It's highly unlikely that nobody brought it up in all that time. But he obviously decided to keep on the road they're currently driving on and just being there for Dean in his very own way.

And since it seems fairly effective Sam surely won't complain.

He has no clue why Dean is so responsive to the guy while everyone else failed before. Perhaps it's because of that weird rivalry Dean insists on upholding and the fact he doesn't want to appear weak in front of Castiel. Or maybe Castiel pushes some buttons nobody before thought about pushing.

The most important thing is, it's working.

And that's all that matters.

Even after another bad day filled with horrific nightmares (Sam actually had to shake Dean awake after he fell asleep on the couch while they both watched _Blade Runner_ ) Dean doesn't fall into a deep and dark hole but instead spends most of his day listening to Castiel prattling about the latest text he's been translating. Something about the guy's voice seems soothing to the hunter and Castiel appears happy enough to ramble on. He doesn't even seem to care that Dean isn't really listening, he just stays by his side.

And when Dean sets out on his first hunt just about a week later, Castiel offers him a batch of his legendary chocolate chip cookies as road provisions and tells him to call whenever he is in need to know more about the parental educational methods of werewolves in ancient times.

Dean merely smiles at him and calls him a moron.

  
  


\---

  
  


So yeah, despite what Dean always claims Sam knows they're friends.

Maybe not the best buddies in the world or anything, but friends nonetheless.

  
  


\---

  
  


And when just a year later Dean and Castiel become even more than that Sam is finally able to see the whole picture.


End file.
